Almost Home
by purplepagoda
Summary: Olivia, and Nick go to a bar, for drinks, after work. And after a few rounds, and one lost bet, will they be able to leave, alone?
1. Bets

He looks over, at her. They're the last two, in squad room.

"You going home, anytime, soon?"

"I don't know."

"After a case like this, I could use a drink," Nick admits, "How about you?"

"And a shower," she adds.

"I'll buy. What do you say?"

"I don't know."

"You have a hot date, with prince charming, tonight?"

"I don't think that is going to work out," she admits.

"You have to give the guy a chance."

"I did. I really wanted it to work, but I just don't think that it's going to."

"So, what do you say? Let's get a drink, and drown our sorrows. It's been a rough week, a rough case, and hell, we deserve it."

"I don't know."

"What else do you have planned? Go home, and curl up on the couch, watching TV, until you fall asleep? You could go out with me, have a drink."

"What's in it, for me?"

"I heard that you're pretty good at shooting pool."

"Really?"

"I bet you twenty bucks I can beat you."

"Make it fifty, and I'm in."

"Really? Fifty? That is pretty steep. What do you need the money for?"

"I don't need the money, I just like to win."

"I know," he smirks.

"Get your coat," she tells him, grabbing her purse, and phone.

They grab their coats, and head for the elevator. They end up at a bar a couple of blocks away. He orders them a couple of rounds. She orders a chardonnay, he orders a couple of shots. They sit on stools, at the bar. The bar tender brings them their drinks. She reaches for her.

"Shots first," he tells her.

"I don't do shots," she argues.

"Live a little," he goads her.

"Nick, I'm not in college. I don't drink beer, and a sure as hell don't do shots."

"You're taking all of the fun out of it. What's one shot?"

"It's never just one shot," she smiles, exposing her dimples.

"You've been NYPD for how many years?"

"More than I care to count."

"You work in a boys club, I am certain that you know how to hold your alcohol. I am also sure, that you could probably drink me under the table, if you wanted to."

"I am sure of that."

"It's Friday night, what is one shot going to hurt?"

She rolls her eyes, and reaches for the shot glass. She pounds it back. A few shots later, they are standing around a pool table. There is a group of people gathered around them. Her hair is pulled back, into a clip, and her sleeves are rolled up. Nick stands next to the pool table, holding his pool stick. The group of people around the table watch Olivia, closely.

"I make this shot, you lose," Olivia reminds him.

"You won't make it," he is certain.

"Side pocket. Watch, and learn, rookie," she taunts him.

He holds his breath, as she leans forward, to make her shot. She hits the ball, and hits it into the pocket. She smiles, and looks at Nick.

"And, that is how it's done."

"You win."

"Pay up."

He hands her the money. She takes it, then heads for the coat rack.

"Where are you going, I want a rematch?"

"Maybe another time," she heads for the door.

He grabs his coat, and follows her out. She hails a cab. It stops, and she climbs inside. He climbs inside, with her.

"What are you doing?" she asks as he closes the door.

"We've both had a little too much to drink," he begins.

"Maybe you have."

"I just want to make sure that you get home, alright."

"Whatever," she gives the cabby the address.

A few minutes later, they're at her building. He climbs out of the car, and follows her towards the entrance.

"I am here, you don't have to follow me up," she tells him.

"You can't even walk a straight line."

"Neither can you."

"Touche."

"What are you doing to do, arrest me, for drunken walking, in my own apartment building?" she wonders, as she walks through the doors.

"I am just trying to be a good friend."

"Ok," she relents, as they climb on the elevator.

The doors close behind them. A few floors later, the doors open. She steps out. He follows her, to her door. She pulls out her keys. She pushes the door open. He stands there, for a second.

"Night, Liv."

She smiles at him. Before she can respond, she realizes what close proximity he is in, to her. They have both had too much to drink, and their inhibitions, are low. Without a second thought he leans in, and kisses her. She doesn't stop him. She doesn't push him away. She doesn't back down.

A few steps later, they're in the apartment, with the door closed. She locks it, behind him. He kisses her neck.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea," he whispers, pausing.

She stands there, looking at him. She smiles, as her pulse increases. His eyes look her up and down. She's wearing a sweater, and a pair of jeans, but all he can think about is the dress, that she wore to the crime scene, days earlier.

She takes a step forward. She exhales.

"This is a terrible idea," she says, just above a whisper. She steps closer, and before either of them can stop it, her lips are on his. He doesn't try to stop her. He doesn't try to argue. He doesn't back down, either.


	2. Wake Up Call

She rolls towards her vibrating phone, with her eyes closed. She feels around on the nightstand. She grabs the phone, and puts it to her ear.

"Benson," she says, groggily, "Yeah, I'll be there in thirty," she hangs up. She puts the phone back.

She leans back, onto the bed. She tries to wake up. She doesn't open her eyes. Her head is throbbing. She takes a deep breath. She realizes that her covers are tangled around her. Against her foot, she feels a leg.

It only takes a second for her to realize there is warm body, lying next to her. The 'oh shit!' moment washes over her, as she fears opening her eyes, and being faced with reality. Against her better judgment she opens her eyes. She looks to her right, and finds a body lying next to her.

She hears him breathing, as he sleeps. She lifts her head off the pillow, unwilling to consider who might be lying next to her. The moonlight shines in, through the curtain. The moonbeam illuminates his face. She stares at her former partner, in disbelief.

She sits up in bed, pulling the sheet up, with her. She runs her fingers through her hair, in disbelief. She kicks him. He doesn't respond.

"Nick, get up, I have a crime scene to get to."

"Uh huh," he mutters, half asleep.

"Nick, I have to go to a crime scene, you have to leave."

"Yeah, ok," he murmurs.

Her voice grows louder, "Nick. I am going to go get in the shower, you need to be gone by the time that I get out."

"I will."

She rolls her eyes, and looks at the clock, as she moves towards the edge of the bed. The clock reads; _337_. She pulls the sheet off him, as she slides out of bed. The air from the ceiling fan hits him.

He rolls over, and opens his eyes. He watches, in confusion, as she walks away from the bed, with a sheet around her. She makes it to the bathroom, and slams the door. His head pounds. Autopilot takes over. He slides out of the bed, and begins gathering his clothes off the floor.

He dresses, as he follows the trail of clothing to the living room. He finds that the trail of his belongings leads all the way to the door. He stuffs his tie in the jacket pocket of his suit. He checks his pocket, and makes sure that his wallet, and keys are there, before he leaves. He finds them, and a phone. As he leaves the apartment, he pulls out his phone, to call a cab.

She showers quickly, and thoroughly. She dries her hair most of the way, slaps on some chapstick, and leaves the bathroom. She quickly peels away all of linens, from the bed, though most of them are already on the floor. She piles them on the floor, on top of some of her clothes. She grabs her phone, gun, and badge. She follows the trail of clothing out the door. She locks it, as she leaves.

She makes it to her crime scene, in forty minutes, after her phone call. When she arrives she pulls her hair into a pony tail. She wears a coat, and a scarf, in the frigid weather. Amanda, and Melinda have already arrived.

Olivia walks slowly. Finally she reaches them. Melinda is kneeling by the body, as Olivia stops, next to her partner.

"You look like you had a rough night," Amanda comments.

"You have no idea."

"Did you do something you're going to regret?" Amanda wonders.

Olivia looks at the medical examiner, "What do we have?"

"I am not entirely certain of time of death. It has been rather cold, as you know. I have a liver temp, but I will have a better idea, once I get her back to the morgue."

Hours later, Olivia heads down to the morgue, to see what information Dr. Warner has for her. Amanda isn't at the precinct, because she is chasing down a lead.

Olivia gets off the elevator, and makes small, deliberate, quiet steps towards autopsy. She pushes the door open, and steps in. The harsh fluorescent lights make her eyes burn. For a second she feels as if she's going to throw up. Melinda looks up from the body that she's standing next to.

"You ok Olivia?"

"I just have a headache."

"You know that I am a medical doctor, right?"

"I am well aware of that. We've been working together a long time."

"So you're lying to me, because?"

"What do you mean?"

"Headache? Seems more like a hangover, to me."

"I am a college kid who doesn't know how to hold her liquor."

"I have seen you drink many man under the table, but I have a feeling last night..."

"I pushed it, a little too far."

"And?"

Olivia reaches into the pocket of her coat. She smiles, for a second, and them pulls out the crisp fifty dollar bill.

"I won."

"At drinking, or pool?"

"Both. I out drank him, and then kicked his ass at pool."

"But did you really win?"

"Last night, I thought that I did."

Before Melinda can ask anything else Amanda pushes through the doors. The smell of coffee hits Olivia's nostrils, in a split second. She looks up, at Amanda, who holds a beverage carrier in her hands. She sits it down on a table. She hands one of the cups to Melinda, and then offers one to Olivia.

"I know that you don't usually drink coffee, but..."

"I'll take it," she holds tightly to the cup.

"That's what I thought," Amanda grabs herself a cup.

"Thank you," Melinda sips her.

"No problem."

Olivia swallows the warm elixir. "So, what did you find?" she turns to Melinda, trying to avoid Amanda's inquiries, and questioning looks.


	3. Never

She gets home that night, and begins working on clearing the path of destruction, in her apartment. She's making her bed, with freshly laundered linens, when there is a knock at the door. She spreads the comforter over the surface of the bed, and leaves the bedroom, through the open door. She makes her way through the living room, past the couch, towards the door. She looks out the peephole. She stares, in silence, and confusion, for a moment. She unlocks the door, and pulls it open. She stands in the doorway, unwilling to let him in.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, sharply.

"We need to talk," he informs her.

"There is nothing to talk about," she argues.

"Can I come in?" he questions.

"Absolutely not," she disagrees.

"Olivia, I don't think you want me standing in the hallway, to have this conversation. I only need five minutes, just let me in," Nick begs.

"I'll give you two," she concedes. She steps back, and allows him into the apartment. She closes the door, behind him. She allows him two steps, into the apartment. She feels a sense of anxiety, realizing that it is where they had been standing, the night before. She folds her arms across her chest.

"Look, I know that you don't like talking, to me, or to anyone."

"What makes you think that I want to talk to you now?"

"I don't."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I want to talk."

"If you have something to say, then say it," she insists.

"I want talk about what happened last night."

"I don't."

"I know that it was not a good choice."

She shakes her head, in anger, at him, but mostly herself, for crossing a professional boundary, "Nick, you don't get it. I don't want to talk about it, ever."

"That would be awkward. We have to work together, every day," he reminds her.

"What is there to talk about?"

"How did that happen?"

"We both had too much to drink."

"I know that. I guess I just don't understand why it happened."

"I don't know," she shrugs.

"What about the guy that you are seeing?"

"What about him?"

"What does this mean?" he quizzes.

"For what?"

"What does this mean, for us?"

"Us?" she points to herself, and them him, "Nick there is no us. We are not partners. You made it very clear that you didn't want to be my partner. We made a mistake, but that does not mean we are an us. Ok?"

"So what did last night mean?"

"It didn't mean anything."

"I don't believe you," he argues.

"It didn't mean anything to me," she adds.

"Really?"

"Nick, you're a nice guy. You're a good cop. Last night, I was guilty of poor judgment. I crossed a line. I am sorry if that led you to believe that there is something going on between us. There isn't. There never will be. What happened last night, is never going to happen again. I don't want to talk about it, anymore."

"I didn't know that you were in the habit of having one night stands."

"I'm not."

"So, what was last night?"

"A mistake."

"How do you know that?"

"Nick, you are my co-worker."

"That isn't the point," Nick reminds her.

"And you're my friend. I don't want to make this into something that it's not. We both had too much to drink last night. We let ourselves go too far."

"You're not answering my question. How do you know that it was a mistake?"

"You're too young for me. We work together. It would never work out."

"You don't know that," he disagrees.

"Why are you bringing this up? Do you have some sort of feelings, that I need to know about?"

"Do you?"

"I have been a cop for a long time, I don't have feelings, anymore," she says coldly.

"That isn't true."

"I don't have feelings for you. Do you have feelings for me?"

"I don't know," he admits, "I am attracted to you."

"Direct your attraction somewhere else, this isn't going to happen. You're going through a tough time, right now, and you're confused."

"I am not confused."

"Nick, go home."

"So what's his name?"

"Whose?"

"This mystery man."

"It doesn't matter."

"Is he the one? Last night, you didn't seem so sure."

She pushes past him, and opens the door. She gives him a shove, towards the exit. She points, to the hallway, "You need to leave."

He steps into the hallway, and she slams the door, in his face. He shakes his head, as he hears the door lock. He starts towards the elevator.

"That went well," he mutters, to himself.

She pours herself a glass of wine, and flips on the TV. She plops down, on the couch. She sits the glass of wine on the coffee table.

"What are you doing?" she asks herself, reaching for the glass. Before it reaches her mouth, her phone rings. She slides it out of her pocket. She presses it against her ear.

"Benson. Oh, it's you. Yeah. Ok, I'll meet you there," she hangs up the phone. She puts it back in her pocket, and heads to the bathroom, for a shower. She heads into the bathroom, and stops at the mirror. She looks at herself in the mirror.

"Are you trying to prove him wrong, now?" she wonders, as she grips the counter-top.


	4. Perfection

The following day, she finds herself a little distracted ,at work. She grabs her order, and leaves the coffee shop. She heads back to the car, that is parked against the curb, on the other side of the street. She climbs inside the driver's side, and hands the items to her partner. She looks over at Amanda.

"Are you ready to roll?" Olivia questions.

"I just love stake outs," she replies, sarcastically.

"Hopefully it's not a long one," Olivia puts the car into gear. A few minutes later they arrive at their location. It's just after eight o'clock. Olivia leans her seat back, a little, as they sit, and wait. Amanda sips her coffee.

"You're being awfully quiet. That usually means that there is something on your mind," Amanda states.

"There is always something on my mind."

"I am glad that you solved that mystery for me."

Olivia turns towards her, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Usually I am the one asking you questions," she smirks.

"Have you ever gone out, with someone, who is everything that you're looking for?"

"I don't think so, why do you ask?"

"I am just curious."

"Why?"

"Do you have a list?"

"A list?" Amanda raises her eyebrow.

"Of qualities?"

"I have a notorious reputation, for having poor standards. I am probably not the one to ask. Why are you asking?"

"I found someone, who meets all of the criteria."

"What are the criteria?"

"Smart, handsome, had a decent job, is funny, doesn't try to change me. Someone who I can have an intelligent conversation with. Somebody who has similar interests, and passions."

"You're dream man, is a cop?" Amanda questions.

"No," she shakes her head.

"You said similar interests, and passions."

"And, not a cop," Olivia adds.

"That eliminates a lot of good candidates," Amanda argues.

"I don't want to be with someone who is married to the job."

"So you don't to marry the male version of yourself?"

"Exactly."

"So you found him?"

"Yes," she confirms.

"The guy that you've been seeing?"

"Yes," she nods.

"What's wrong with him? He's lousy in bed?"

"I haven't slept with him, yet."

"You went on vacation with him, but you haven't slept with him, yet? What is wrong with him?"

"That's just it, I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"It's like he's too perfect."

"It took you this long to find the perfect man, and now, he's too perfect? That doesn't even make sense. Do you want to be alone, forever?"

"No."

A light bulb goes off, in Amanda's head, "This is about the guy you slept with, the other night?"

"What?!"

"Honey, I know a walk of shame, when I see one."

"That was not a walk of shame," Olivia argues.

"You slept with someone else, didn't you?"

"Yes," she confirms.

"Is the one?" Amanda inquires.

"No, definitely not."

"Are you exclusively seeing, your perfect mate?"

"We never stipulated that."

"But it was understood?"

"I guess," she nods.

"So, basically, you're feeling guilty? You found the perfect guy, but you screwed someone else, so now you're questioning things?" Amanda asks, bluntly.

"I was questioning things, before that."

"What do you want me to say?"

Olivia shrugs, "I don't know."

"Look, I am really bad at relationships. I always pick the wrong guy for me. If the perfect one came along, I probably wouldn't know what to do with him, either. You deserve to have the perfect guy. On the same token, if your gut is telling you, that something isn't right, it's probably not."

"Sometimes, I hate my gut."

Amanda smiles, "Your gut is what brought us here."

"Thanks, for reminding me."

"Have there been any red flags?"

"No. He's not a criminal, or a psychopath, or a sociopath. He's just a normal guy."

"Then that's probably the problem."

"What do you mean?"

"He's normal. I hate to break it to you, but you're not normal. Normal is boring, and I don't really see you wanting normal."

"That is all I want."

Amanda shakes her head, "No you think that is what you want. You think that you want a house, in the suburbs, with a white picket fence. You'll have a couple of kids, and a husband who is home by six o'clock, every night. Olivia, you don't want picture perfect. Believe me."

"How do you know?"

"You would be bored out of your mind, and divorced in two years."

"Are you saying that I shouldn't be with mister perfect?"

"Passion, not perfect. That is what you really want, isn't it?"

"Sometimes, I don't know what I want," she admits.

"And, as much as you hate to admit it, I think that you're a little bit like me."

"How so?"

"You always want the ones who are wrong for you, in everyway."

She nods, "I do have a tendency to want, what I can't have."

Amanda smiles, "It's not a matter of can't have. You can have anything you want. It is a matter of shouldn't have."

"Probably," Olivia agrees.

"Kind of like I can have all six of these doughnuts," she holds up the paper bag, "but, I probably shouldn't."

"They're muffins."

Amanda groans, "No fat, no taste, dry, made from organic dirt, muffins?"

Olivia rolls her eyes, "I got you blueberry."

"But yours touched it, and now it's contaminated."

"Eat it, or don't, I don't care."


	5. What Do You Want

They have been together, in their squad car, for two and a half hours. The are both growing tired, sixteen hours into their work day. There is still no sign of their perp. They sit in the car, in silence. Olivia looks out her window, with her binoculars.

"So, do you want stability, or do you want happiness?" Amanda asks out of the blue, since their conversation departed Olivia's love life two hours, and fifteen minutes earlier.

Olivia puts the binoculars down, and turns towards Amanda, in surprise. She doesn't say anything.

"Stability, or happiness?" Amanda repeats.

"I already have stability."

"You don't like change."

"You're point?"

"Maybe happiness scares you."

"I never said that I wasn't happy," Olivia argues.

"By your own account, you aren't where you wanted to be, in life, by now."

Olivia looks out the window, "There's our guy."

* * *

She gets home, close to midnight. She finds herself, texting him, against her better judgment.

* * *

He rolls over towards the sound of the vibrating phone. He's been asleep, less than ten minutes. His room is dark. The only light is from an alarm clock, and his phone. He grabs the phone, and unlocks it. He reads the text message, in silence.

_I'm sorry. Maybe, we should talk._

* * *

By twelve fifteen, she's sound asleep, on the couch. She's still wearing the clothes she put on, at five o'clock that morning. The TV flickers, in the background, but the white noise doesn't bother her. She is awakened, by the sound of someone knocking on her door. She sits up, and looks at the door. She looks at the watch, on her wrist. She shakes her head, and climbs off the couch. She makes her way to the door. She checks the peephole, and pulls the door open. He steps inside, in silence. She closes, and locks the door behind him.

"You said you wanted to talk?"

"It's after midnight."

"You woke me from a sound sleep."

"So this is payback?"

"You said that you wanted to talk, so here I am."

"I changed my mind. I don't want to talk. I am tired of talking."

"Then what did I come over here for?"

"I don't know why you're here."

"Why did you say that you wanted to talk?"

"Because, I did."

"But now you don't, and I'm here, in the middle of the night, when I could be sleeping?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"What are we doing here, Olivia?"

"I don't know."

"You lied, didn't you?"

"About what?"

"You do have feelings?"

"I don't have feelings," she argues.

"But?"

"I am attracted to you," she reveals.

"And, you told me that there was nothing between us. Am I here, because you have needs?"

She shakes her head.

"So, then what?" he questions.

"We were drunk," she begins.

He cuts her off, "And?"

"What if we weren't?"

"But we were. I don't understand."

"I need to know."

"Know? Know what?"

"How I would feel, if I weren't."

"Why does it matter?"

"I feel guilty."

"For what?"

"Losing control."

"My memory may be a little fuzzy, but I think you were in control."

"This was a bad idea."

"Yeah," he looks into her eyes, "it was."

She freezes. Her breath hitches. He takes a step forward. He unbuttons his coat, and hangs it on the hook. He turns towards her. He steps towards her, slowly, and deliberately. He leans in. His mouth lingers near her ear. He whispers, "What do you want?" She doesn't say anything. She doesn't move.

He puts his hand on the base of her skull, with his fingers in her hair. She doesn't wait, for him to pull him towards her. She presses her lips, against his. She can feel her heartbeat accelerating. He allows himself to kiss her.

For a moment, they both forget what they're doing is crossing the line. As she pulls away, to get a breath, her conscience sends up a red flag. She looks at him. He stands less than six inches from her, much less.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she tells him.

"You started this," he reminds her.

"I know."

"I will walk away, if that is what you want."

"I don't know what I want."

"That's ok, too."

"What if I don't want a relationship, with you? What if that's not at all what this is about?"

"I am fine with that."

"But..."

"It's your call," he insists.

She looks into his big brown eyes. She knows that he is trying to seduce her, with a single look. He doesn't need any words. Neither does she. She's sick of words. She's sick of talking, and analyzing every little thing. Sometimes what you want, can't be explained. She closes the gap between them. He doesn't hesitate to press his lips against hers.


	6. Almost Persuaded

She lies there, in bed, in the dark, afterwards. She doesn't move, she just lies there, in silence. She feels as if her heart is going to beat out of her chest. Her guilty conscience doesn't feel any better.

He doesn't touch her. He just listens to her breathe. He can practically hear her thinking. Obviously, this little rendezvous has changed nothing.

She knows that she has made a mistake. The worst part being, she's made it twice, instead of just once. She's blatantly ignored her subconscious. Even though the voice in her head had been screaming at her, she has chosen to ignore it, more than once.

"You want me to go, don't you?" he breaks the silence.

"This was still a mistake."

"I know."

"I don't know what I was thinking. Nothing has changed."

"Except our state of mind."

"Obviously, this isn't going to work."

"You feel guilty?"

"I think that we should just pretend that none of this ever happened. Is that ok, with you?"

"I can do that, if you want."

"You used to be my partner. You are my co-worker, and I am old enough to know better."

"Ok."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he slides out of her bed.

He gathers his belongings, and leaves the apartment. She climbs in the shower. When she gets out, she pulls off the bedclothes, trying to clear her guilty conscience. She's too tired to make a trip to the laundry. She tosses the pile on the floor, in a corner. She grabs her extra set of linens. She makes the bed. She turns off the light, and curls up, under the covers. Her wet hair hits the pillow. She rolls onto her side, and looks at the clock. It reminds her that soon she'll have to be awake. She covers her head, with another pillow, and closes her eyes.

* * *

The following week, she has dinner, with her mystery man. She is wearing a lavender dress. They sit at a romantic dinner. He sits across from her, watching her every move, completely enamored. He wears a blue, and white, striped button down, to match his eyes. He smiles at her, as she sips her drink.

"Why don't we forget about dinner?" he wonders.

She looks up at him. She swallows her drink, "Forget about dinner? What did you have in mind?"

"I think that you know."

"Do I?" she teases him.

"As amazing as you look in that dress..."

She cuts him off, "Not so fast."

He finishes his thought, anyway, "I know that you would look even better, with it off."

"You think so?"

"Olivia, how long are we going to play this game?" he wonders.

"What game?"

"How long have we been seeing each other?"

She laughs, "It seems like it's been about fifteen years."

"A few months," he corrects her.

"Is that all?" she smiles.

"How long are you going to make me wait? I am only human."

"You're a man."

"Exactly. I am a man. I am weak."

"Not tonight," she insists.

"If not tonight, then when?"

"I don't know. I will let you know, when I am ready."

"I am beginning to think that this is never going to happen," he admits.

"What makes you think that?"

"I know you. You keep coming up with all of these excuses. You have to go to work early. You'll get called in. You're not ready. There is always something. It seems to me, that you don't want this."

"I never said that."

"I have been waiting, for a very long time," he adds.

"And, you won't die, if you have to wait a little bit longer. Patience is a virtue, maybe it's time that you learn it."

His expression changes, "Is there something that you want to tell me?" he wonders.

"What do you mean?"

"I get the sense that you're hiding something."

"Why would I hide anything from you?"

He shrugs, "I don't know. Maybe there is something that you don't want me to know."

"No."

"What is your hesitation?"

She furrows her brow, "I want this to work.."

He cuts her off, "No good conversation ever started off that way."

"Just hear me out," she begs.

"Ok."

"I guess I just have reservations," she admits.

"Ok. I can live with that. Tell me what they are. Whatever they are, we'll try to work them out."

"There are things that I want, out of life, that I am not sure that you do."

He smiles, revealing his dimples, "Since when?"

"I want to have a family."

"You're trying to kill the mood."

"I already told you that nothing was going to happen, tonight."

"I respect that."

"Do you?" she becomes defensive, "Because right now, you're acting like a seventeen year old boy."

"I am sorry. I just want to be with you."

"I am not ready."

"Ok."

"Did you hear what I said?"

"You're not ready," he repeats.

"The other thing."

"You want a family. I don't understand why that is a problem?"

"I want my own family. I want to have a child. I know that it is naive, but I haven't entirely given up on that, yet."

"That's what it's going to take to make you happy?" he inquires.

She nods.

"I am not entirely opposed to the idea."

"You are only saying that, because you think that it's going to help you score."

"Sometimes I hate how well you can read me," he remarks.

"I just want the truth."

"The truth?"

"Just say it," she pushes him, "you don't want to have a child, with me."

"I would love to practice making one."

Her lips draw into a line. Her nostrils flare, in anger. "Would it kill you to be serious, right now?"

"I am not going to tell you that I am completely opposed, because I'm not."

"But?"

"I don't think it's a great idea."

She grabs her purse, and storms out of the restaurant.


	7. Not Worth It

She stands on the doorstep, in heels. She is wearing a dress, and an overcoat. Her hair is wet, from the rain. Her face is wet, from the tears. She can only imagine what she must look like. Certainly, there is mascara running down her face. She can't understand it. She can't explain to herself, why she's there. Before she can regain her self-control, she raises her fist. She knocks on the door.

He opens his eyes. It only takes him a second to return to a state of consciousness. He rolls off the couch, onto his feet. He moves towards the pounding, on his door. He looks out the peephole, and reaches for the latch. He pulls the door open. He looks at her, standing there, in the rain, with a tear-stained face, wearing high heels. He can't help but think that she looks beautiful, in spite of her mascara smudged face.

"What are you doing here?" his voice cuts her, like a knife.

"I don't know," she admits.

"Come in," he says softly.

She steps in. He closes the door behind her. The smell of her perfume catches him off guard. At work, she didn't wear it. He admires her by the book attitude. She would never consider dulling any of her senses, even smell, at a crime scene. She smells of rain, and heaven. She searches his face, for an answer, with her brown eyes.

"You gonna stay a while?"

She just shrugs.

"You should get that coat off, it's wet."

"I shouldn't have come," she realizes.

"Then why did you?"

She furrows her brow, "I just thought... I don't know what I was thinking."

"Olivia this isn't a good idea, you know that."

"I do."

"Things have changed," he reminds her.

"I know."

"Last week, you weren't my partner. This week, you are."

"I should go."

He subtly shakes his head. He reaches out his hand, "Let me take your coat."

She un-cinches the belt, around the waist of her coat. She gently tugs, and pulls it off. She hands it to him. He hangs it on the coat rack. He locks the door. He returns to her. He stops, just in front of her.

His hand touches her face, and then tucks a piece of wet hair, behind her ear. He wipes the tears from her face. She stares at him, knowing she shouldn't cross the line.

"Any guy, who makes you cry, he's not worth it," he reminds her, gently.

She takes a step towards him. Her cups her face, with his hand. Her hand raises, tracing the outline of his jawbone. She pulls him closer to him. It is only a second, before his lips are against his.

She pulls at his tie. She un-knots it, and pulls it from around his neck. She tosses it on the floor. Her fingers reach for the buttons on the collar of his shirt. His hand slips to the back of her head. Then down her neck, down her spine, towards the zipper of her dress. She pulls his shirt from the waist of his pants. Her zipper slides down. She reaches for his belt.

* * *

Hours later, she wakes up, in his bed. He's sound asleep, with his arm around her. She looks at the alarm clock, nearby. _232_. She curses herself, for letting things go this far. She gently lifts his arm, and slides out from underneath it. She finds a stack of his business cards on the bedside stand. She turns one over, and scrawls a note on the back.

Her bare feet hit the hardwood floor. She tiptoes out of the room, gathering her clothes. As she walks down the hall, she gathers clothing articles, one by one. She slips each item on, as she finds it. At the end of the hall she finds one heel. In the living room she finds the other, and her dress. She grabs her coat off the rack, and she moves towards the door. She slips her shoes, and coat on. She slides turns the lock. She pulls the door open, and slips out.

The cool night air, stings her cheeks, as she pulls a hair clip out of her coat pocket. She pulls her hair into a clip, and starts down the sidewalk. She hails a cab, and makes it home, in less than half an hour. She locks her door, when she reaches her apartment. She peels off her clothes, and turns on the shower. When she steps inside the water is still cold.

She hurriedly showers. She dries off, with a towel, and grabs a clean t-shirt. She slips it over her head. She crashes into her bed, completely defeated.

* * *

He wakes up, to the sound of his alarm. He reaches over, and hits snooze. He lays in bed, with one arm hanging over the side, as he lays on his stomach. He is barely covered with a tangled sheet. A few minutes later, the alarm goes off, again. He rolls towards it. He quickly realizes that he is alone, in bed. He finds the note, by the bed, on the back of his business card.

_Nick-_

_We can't do this anymore._

He pulls open the drawer of the nightstand. He shoves the card inside. He climbs out of bed, and heads to the shower.

* * *

She looks up from her desk, she yawns. She stares at he co-worker, completely puzzled.

"Nick, what are you doing here? It's Saturday. We don't have a case."

"I could ask you the same, Rollins."

"I couldn't sleep."

"I accidentally set the alarm," he admits.

"And you just now realized that it was Saturday?"

"No, I realized that, half-way here."

"Then why didn't you go home?"

"I've got paperwork to catch up on."

"You ok?"

He takes a seat at his desk, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem distracted."

"Nah, I'm just tired."

"Every day this week?"

"I miss my daughter," he admits.

"It's Saturday, why don't you go see her?" Amanda quizzes.

"She's in Florida, with her mom."

"They moved there?"

"No, they're at Disney World," he reveals.

"You should be there, for that."

"I wasn't invited."

"You're her dad."

"And, her mother would kill me, for intruding."


	8. Forgiveness

She gets home from work, and finds him standing in front of her apartment. She looks at him, in confusion.

"What are you doing here?"

"You haven't been answering my phone calls."

"I thought that you would get the message," she tells him.

"Olivia, our date was a week ago," he reminds her.

"Look, I don't want to do this."

"I don't believe you."

She huffs, "I don't believe you. You've got some balls."

"Let me come up," he begs.

She rolls her eyes, as she enters the building. He follows her into the apartment.

"What do you want? I thought that last week made things pretty clear."

"Olivia, I am not going to give up on this."

"Maybe, you should. I don't think that it's going to work out."

"Are you saying that you don't want it to?"

"I am saying that last week, at dinner you acted like a jerk. You really showed your ass."

"Let me make it up to you," he begs.

"I don't think that you can."

"Olivia, please. I want to be with you. I don't know how to make you see that."

"I don't know if you can. I think that it's too little, too late."

"You don't believe that."

"How do you know, what I believe?"

"Because I know you."

"Then you should know that I don't want to talk to you."

"Olivia don't push me away," he begs.

"Give me one good reason," she insists.

"I love you."

"What?!"

"I love you," he repeats.

"How did we get there?"

"I don't know."

"Look, if you think that saying that is going to..."

"Why can't you just accept things at face value? Not everybody has an ulterior motive. Sometimes people are genuine. Or have you completely given up on believing in humanity?"

"I don't know."

"Olivia, I love you. What more can I do, to prove that to you?"

"I can think of a lot of things."

"Look if space is what you want, you can have it."

"That is not what I want, and you know that."

"I know."

"So?"

"Can we talk about it, over dinner?"

"Ok," she agrees, reluctantly.

"Tonight?"

"Not tonight."

"Tomorrow?"

"I am in the middle of the case."

"So I'll wait until Monday."

"I am in court, every day this week."

"You're trying to shut me out," he accuses.

"I the only day I am free, is on Friday."

"Ok."

* * *

Friday rolls around. She gets off work, and heads home, to shower, and change clothes. She meets him for dinner. She's wearing a dress. He is already at the restaurant, when she arrives. He pulls out the chair for her. He joins her at the table.

"You look beautiful."

"Thank you," she forces a smile.

"Look, I am sorry for the way that I acted at dinner, a couple of weeks ago. I have really missed you."

"I know."

"I want you to know, I want whatever you want."

"I have a hard time believing that."

He smirks, "You have a hard time believing a lot of things."

"That may be true."

"Olivia, I just want you. I have only wanted you, since we met. Please, forgive me, for making an ass of myself."

"I forgive you."

"Let's eat."

"You don't want to eat."

"I have had their steak on my mind, all day long. I'm starving."

"That's a shame," she smiles, "I thought that we would skip the meal, and..."

He swallows hard, "I can eat steak any time."

"You are so easy to tease."

"Are you teasing me, or are you being serious? I can't tell."

"I mean, it's your choice. You can have your steak, or.."

He cuts her off, "You. Forget the steak."

She smiles, as he pushes his chair out. She grabs her coat, off the back of her chair. He slips it on her, and grabs her by the hand.

* * *

They're like two school-aged kids, on the ride to her apartment. They're both anxious, and eager. The car is barely parked, when they bail out. They run into the building. They skip the elevator. He chases her up the stairs. They reach her apartment. They step inside. He slams the door, behind them. She tosses her coat on the floor. His joins hers, there.

He pulls her in, for a kiss.

"You don't know how long I have waited..."

She cuts him off, "Shh!" she pulls him towards her. They don't make it to her bed.

She's lying next to him, after the deed is done. She looks over at him. They're on the floor, behind the couch. She starts laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"Your back is out, isn't it?" she realizes.

"Romantic, huh?"

"Oh, yeah," her hand rests on his bare chest.

"I am too damn old to be on the floor."

Without a word she gets off the floor. She walks away.

"Where are you going?"

"I don't want to be on the floor, either. If you want to stay there, it's up to you," she calls, from the other room.


	9. Take Your Love Somewhere Else

It's late, on a Friday night, weeks later. She's sitting at her desk, working on paperwork. Most of her co-workers have gone home, for the night. Fin looks over at her.

"You going home, anytime soon?"

"I have a lot of paperwork to catch up on."

"Hey, that's on you. Quit spending so much time with your mystery man, and you'd be caught up."

"Really? What's your excuse?"

"I don't write as fast as you do."

She rubs her temples, "Oh, ok."

"So when do we get to meet prince charming?"

"Maybe, never."

"You two on the outs?"

"No. Things are going well."

"So what's the problem?"

She shrugs, "Nothing."

"Liv, are you feeling ok?"

"I just have a headache."

"That's the fifth day this week."

"It has been a rough week."

"Are you sure there isn't something else going on?"

"I am fine," she insists.

"If you say so."

She works on her paperwork, late into the night. Fin's stack is equally as large as hers is. Eventually she drifts off, at her desk. Hours later, he nudges her awake, placing a warm caffeinated beverage on her desk. She peels her face off the piece of paper that it's stuck to. She looks up at him.

"Thanks."

"Get back to work," he barks, jokingly.

She sits up. He takes a seat at his desk. He notices the look that comes across her face.

"You ok?"

She pushes her chair away from the desk. She doesn't say anything, as she flies out of the squad room. Several minutes later, when she exits the ladies room, he's waiting on her. He leans up against the wall, outside the door.

"Did you get sick?"

She doesn't answer him.

"Liv, is there something going on, with you?"

"I am going home."

"Ok. That's probably best. You look like hell. I don't want to catch whatever you have."

"I'm going," she tells him as she heads back to the squad room. She grabs her stuff, and heads for the exit. She's nearly out of the squad room, when he asks a question that she's blind sided by.

"You're not pregnant, are you?"

She stops, dead in her tracks. She turns, and looks at him. All of the color has drained from her face.

"You've got to be kidding me," she replies.

"It's not impossible, is it?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Ok," he relents.

* * *

She crawls into her bed, after a quick shower. She stays there, until well after nine am. She turns her phone back on. She finds she hasn't missed any important calls. She gets up, for a sip of water, and crawls back into bed. She gets out of bed for the day, a few hours later.

* * *

Monday when she returns to work, Fin has already arrived. She takes a seat at her desk, and he approaches her. He raises an eyebrow.

"So?"

"I am not. I am fine."

"You..."

"It was just the once. I feel fine."

He nods, "It was probably the Chinese we had Friday."

"Remind me not to eat there again."

"I'll cross that off our list. I spent half of the next day in the john, too."

"So, it was nothing?"

"Nothing," she confirms.

"Ok," he walks away.

* * *

She sits at dinner, across from her prince charming. He chews his steak, and she stares at his plate.

"Olivia, are you ok?"

"Fine, why?"

"You don't seem like yourself. Is something on your mind?"

"No," she lies.

"Just tell me what it is."

"What would happen if..." she trails off.

"If what?"

"What would you say if..."

He cuts her off, "Liv, I don't like when you play the what-if-game. What's going on?"

"What would you say, if I told you that I was pregnant?"

His eyes widen, he swallows hard, "Excuse me? Are you? Is that what you're telling me?"

"No."

"To which one?"

"I am not telling you that. I'm not."

"Then why are you asking?"

"I'm just curious," she admits.

"Why don't we cross that bridge, when we come to it?" he suggests.

"I want to cross it now."

"You caught me off guard, anything I say..."

"That is no excuse. Just tell me, what would you say?"

He shrugs, "I am sure that whatever I would say, would be the wrong thing."

"Which would be what?"

"How did it happen?"

"Really?!"

"Then I would ask if you were sure, about twenty times."

"And, if I was?"

"I don't know," he shakes his head.

"Yes you do," she argues.

"Now is not a good time."

"That would be your response?" she raises her eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"It is never going to be a good time, is it?"

"Whoa! Slow down. Why are you getting angry? This is a hypothetical, isn't it?"

"Yes," she confirms.

"So why are you getting angry?"

"You lied to me. You don't want whatever I want. You want to say whatever it takes, to get into my..."

He cuts her off, "Olivia, you know that isn't true. I love you."

"Take your love somewhere else," she pushes the chair out, and storms out.


	10. Revelations

He puts a bill on the table, and chases after her. He catches up to her, on the sidewalk. He grabs her by the arm.

"Liv, stop."

"Let go of me," she screams as tears trail down her face.

"I didn't mean it."

"Which part? I am beginning to think that you're playing me for a fool."

"I would never do that, and you know it. Can you just come back inside, so that we can finish dinner?"

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I would be happy. It would just take me a little bit to get used to. I don't do well with hypothetical."

"You don't do well, with a lot of things."

"I just don't ever want to feel..." he trails off, before he can finish, knowing he's about to say something stupid.

"Trapped?" she supplies. "Is that how you feel? You feel trapped, with me?"

"No. I could never feel trapped. Olivia I love you."

"I'm not her. I am not trying to trap you."

"I know that."

"Then stop treating me like her."

"I'm sorry."

"I am sorry that I caught you off guard. It wasn't my intention."

"Why would you ask me something like that, anyway?"

"Because I had to know."

"Are you?"

She furrows her brow, "No. I'm not," she rolls her eyes, "I am probably never going to be. We both know that. That is why you're still here, isn't it? I am never going to get pregnant, so part of the burden is lifted, on your part. You don't have to worry about an accidental pregnancy. I am forty five years old. Neither of us are naive enough to think that I am somehow going to accidentally end up pregnant. That just isn't going to happen."

"Olivia."

"Elliot, I don't think I can do this. I can't be with you. If you are completely honest, we both know, you don't want anymore kids. You have enough responsibility. This just isn't going to work."

"I am not going to keep making the same mistakes."

"What do you mean?"

"I walked away, once before. I didn't fight for you, like I should have. I didn't tell you, what you meant to me. I never should have let you go. I am always going to be sorry, for not seeing that you were standing right in front of me, all along, and never doing anything about it. I love you, period."

"This is too hard."

"Love is hard. You're either in, or your out."

"That is what I am asking you. Are you in, or are you out?"

He smiles at her, "I am in, no matter what. I love you, no matter what happens."

"Or doesn't happen," she adds.

"Just let me love you, ok? We'll deal with the rest, as it comes."

"Do you ever regret it?"

"Regret what?"

"Divorcing her?"

"No. Why would you ask me that? I was in a loveless marriage, for a lot of years. I stayed, for all of the wrong reasons."

"You know, I am not her."

"I know that."

"So, where do we go, from here?"

"Back to dinner."

"I'm not hungry, anymore."

"I'll walk you home," he offers.

"I think I need some fresh air."

"We can walk through the park."

She shakes her head, "No. I need some space. I need to be alone."

He looks into her eyes, "Olivia, don't shut me out, because I'm an idiot."

"You are an idiot," she concurs.

"Don't shut me out," he begs.

"I'm not."

"We have both wanted this for so long. Don't walk away..."

She cuts him off, "I am not the one who always walks away," she reminds him.

Her words cut him like a knife, "I know that I have betrayed your trust, more than once. I have made a lot of mistakes. I don't deserve any more second chances from you, I know that. You have to believe, that I love you."

"I know that."

"And, I know that this scares the hell out of you, but this is meant to be."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Yeah," he smiles.

"How do you know?"

"Because you're the one I can never get out of my head."

"I was your partner, for twelve years," she reminds him.

"You're not my partner, anymore. I am not married, anymore. The lines that kept us from being together, they're gone."

"I just need time."

"We can slow down. I am not in any rush. We waited a long time for this, a couple extra months isn't going to hurt anything."

"I..."

"You want to be alone?"

"I am used to being alone. Anything else is foreign to me."

"Take your time, and your space, but when you're done, come back to me."

She nods. She turns, to leave.

"I love you," he calls after her.

She just continues to walk, down the sidewalk. Her heels click on the concrete. She still can't find the words to say it back to him. Something in her heart, still has doubts.


	11. Distracted

She takes a seat, at her desk, on Monday, with a solemn look on her face. Amanda looks over at her.

"You ok?" she questions.

"Fine," she lies.

"You sure?"

"Yeah," she nods.

"If you want to talk..."

Olivia cuts her off, "Nothing to talk about."

* * *

_She decides to walk home. His voice is still in her head. She thinks about how long it's taken, to get this far. Yet, something inside her, still screams, that it isn't meant to be. For so long, this is all she wanted. She wanted it so much. She wanted him. Maybe, it was always for all of the wrong reasons. _

_She's a couple of blocks from home, when a billboard catches her off guard. She looks up at it. She shakes her head, trying to shake the feeling that the universe is trying to tell her something. She keeps walking, consumed in thought. _

* * *

She's sitting the squad car, next to her partner. Things between them, had become a little bit icy, lately. She wasn't talking, and he didn't mind. She looks over him, as he watches out the window, as she drives.

"Nick, are you ok? You've been awfully quiet, lately."

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he insists.

"Nick, are we ok? I know that things have been..."

He cuts her off, "Olivia, we're fine."

"Are you sure? I really screwed up."

"You weren't there, alone. Look, I am not angry. I am fine. You're my partner, period."

"Ok."

"Are you ok?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem down in the dumps, today."

"I am ok."

"So how are things going?"

"Going?" she raises an eyebrow.

"With you, and Prince charming" he clarifies.

She shrugs, "You know how sometimes you want something for so long, you forgot why you ever wanted it, in the first place?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know if it's what I really want."

"What makes you say that? Did something happen?"

"It is just this feeling that I have. It's an overwhelming feeling that I have, that it just isn't going to work."

"It will work, if you want it to," he reassures her.

"I don't know if I want it to work out."

"So are you stringing him along?"

"No. I told him I needed some space."

"How did he take it?"

"Better than I expected."

"Olivia are you sure that you're ok? You seem distracted."

"I am fine."

"Who are you trying to convince here? Me, or you?"

* * *

_She stands there, in the aisle, for what seems like an eternity. She exhales, and then walks away. She moves onto the next aisle. She takes a bottle of shampoo off the shelf. She fills her basket with toiletries, that she doesn't even need. She circles back to the aisle that she started off in. She stands there, frozen, just staring at the shelf._

* * *

"I honestly don't know," she answers returning to the present.

"We're here," he points ahead, to the crime scene tape.

She pulls up, and puts the car into park. They get out of the car. They make their way to the tape. An officer holds the tape up for them. She takes a deep breath, inhaling the park air. It's early morning, barely twenty after eight. They had just made it to the precinct when they got the call. They stop in front of the body. Her partner squats, next to the body. He looks up at Dr. Warner.

"What do you know?"

"Liver temp gives me a time of death around midnight and two am. No I.D."

"Fluids?" Nick questions.

"Lots of them. Hopefully we'll get lucky."

Olivia looks at the crime scene. There is blood, everywhere.

"She's covered in blood. It's difficult to determine which wound killed her, until I get her back to the morgue," Warner seems to be on the same wavelength, as Olivia, answering her question, before she asks it.

* * *

_She grabs the last item, and puts it into her basket. She moves towards the register, with a nervous energy. She tries to quiet her mind, but it screams at her, instead. _

* * *

She's standing next to her partner, in the morgue, hours later. Melinda standing in front of them, with the body.

"How many?" Nick wonders.

"I counted forty seven," Melinda answers.

"So, our perp stabbed her forty seven times?" Olivia tries to confirm.

"Most of them were post mortem."

"Do we know which one killed her?" Nick follows up.

"He nicked her femoral artery. She bleed out, slowly."

"It was painful?" Olivia assumes.

"Yeah," Melinda confirms.

"Did the rape kit turn up, anything?" Olivia wonders.

"I sent the DNA to the lab. I haven't gotten a hit, yet."

"You think this guy is in the system?" Nick queries.

"Usually when you stab someone this many times, you cut yourself, too. I didn't find a single drop of blood, belonging to anyone else, at the crime scene. I don't think this was his first."

"And probably not his last," Olivia adds.


	12. Hesitation

_She sits there, in silence. The sound of the second hand of her watch, seems louder, than she recalls. She looks down at the watch, and it tells her that time is up. She stands up, from her seat, on the bathroom floor. She stops, halfway to the counter. She tries to tell herself that she is being ridiculous, that it is impossible. She takes two more steps, stopping in front of the counter. She looks in the mirror, for a brief second._

* * *

She grabs her coat, and heads for the door. Nick looks up at her, from his desk.

"Where are you going, in the middle of the day?" he raises an eyebrow.

"I have a dentist appointment. I have rescheduled three times. I have to get my filling replaced."

"Ok, I'll call you, if we get any leads."

"I'll be back soon," she promises.

* * *

She stares at her plate, during dinner, pushing her food around with her fork. She avoids eye contact.

"Olivia?"

"Hm?"

"Are you ok?"

"I am fine, why?"

"You're being too quiet."

"I'm just tired. I had a long day at work," she admits.

"Something you want to talk about?"

She looks up, "Elliot, I think that we're making a mistake, here."

He motions to the waiter, for the check. She pushes her chair out, and slips her coat on. They leave the restaurant. The drive back to her place is silent. She says nothing, as he drives. He parks outside her apartment, and follows her in.

She unlocks the door, and he steps into her apartment, behind her. She closes the door. "You want a drink?"

"I don't know, do I need one?" he questions.

She points to the couch, "Have a seat."

He takes her hand, "Liv, what is going on? Talk to me."

She takes seat on the couch. He sits down, next to her. She doesn't respond.

"Why did you say you think that we're making a mistake?" he questions.

"Don't you?" she raises an eyebrow.

"No."

"Elliot, maybe there is a reason that we could never be anything more than partners. Did you ever consider that?"

"No."

"You were married when we met," she reminds him.

"I know that."

"I can't help, but feel responsible, for the dissolution of your marriage," she admits.

"Olivia, you had nothing to do with it."

"Really?" she raises her brow.

"After I left SVU, things just weren't the same. I never should have stayed with Kathy, after she got pregnant with Eli."

"I told you that, and you didn't listen."

"I am not very good at listening. Nothing you did made me decide to get divorced. Kathy, and I were fighting, all of the time."

"Why?"

"She didn't think that I was faithful."

"She blamed me?"

"She blamed everyone."

"But you were unfaithful to her," Olivia reminds her.

"Never with you."

"Maybe she thought you were having an emotional affair with me, all of those years. You were with me more than you were with her."

"Olivia just stop! Not everything is about you. Kathy and I got a divorce, because..." he trails off.

"Because, why?"

"She didn't want to be married to me, anymore. Who could blame her? I put her through hell. I was so busy trying to be a good cop, that I forgot how to be a good husband. When I wasn't a cop anymore, I didn't know who I was. I said, and did a lot of things that I regret. She couldn't take anymore, and I couldn't blame her."

"You were married, so long, and you didn't fight for her. How is that supposed to make me feel?"

"Olivia, some things just aren't worth fighting for. She walked away. I pushed her. I couldn't fix all of the things that were broken, in my marriage."

"Maybe, you just didn't want to."

"Whose side are you on?"

"Mine."

"Kathy found someone else. She found someone who could be there for her, in ways that I never could. I wasn't going to beg her to stay, when she was already gone. She deserved to be happy."

"And, you wanted revenge? You wanted to show her that you could be happier, than she was?"

"No," he shakes his head.

"How long did it take you, to call me, after the ink was dry?" she wonders.

"You're being paranoid," he warns.

"Answer me," she begs.

"I called you, the second it was finalized."

"You were ready to move on, that quickly?"

"That quickly? The divorce proceedings lasted six months."

"And how long were you married?"

"Our marriage was over for years, before we got divorced."

"It doesn't matter."

"Can you just hear me out?"

"Fine," she nods.

"I just needed to hear your voice. You have been the one constant in my life. And, when I saw you, again, it was so painstakingly obvious that I made a mistake. I should have been fighting for you, all along. I love you. I have loved you, for a long time. I just needed to hear your voice, but when I did, I couldn't walk away. I need you. I have always needed you. I have just been too stupid to see it, until very recently. Why can't you just let me love you?"

"You have no idea how badly you hurt me. You walked out of the squad room that day, and I didn't hear from you, for over a year."


	13. Lying To Herself

"I am sorry."

"Sorry? Elliot, sorry isn't enough. You were my partner every day, for over twelve years. You walked away, and I didn't hear from in for over a year. How do you think that made me feel?"

He brushes her bangs, behind her ear, "Olivia," he says softly, "I never meant to hurt you."

"But you did."

"I can see that, now. Please let me make it up to you."

"I don't know if I can."

"I feel like you're holding back. Why? Why are you so afraid?"

"You are the only person," she clenches her jaw, to fight of the tears, "in my entire life, that I have loved, this much. And you are the one person that can hurt me, like nobody else."

"Liv, I am so sorry."

"I feel guilty," she adds.

"Guilty, for what?"

"I am always going to feel like the other woman. I feel responsible for your marriage, for your family falling apart. I don't think that anything will ever change that."

"Olivia, you weren't the other woman."

"I wasn't?" she asks, cutting him to the core.

He doesn't answer her.

"You didn't think about me, when you were laying in bed, next to your wife, at night? I didn't cross your mind, when you woke up to her, every single morning?"

"You know that I would be lying, if I told you no."

"I don't want the burden of being responsible."

"You weren't responsible. You have nothing to feel guilty about. Kathy is the one who wanted out. She is the one who asked for a divorce. She went outside of our marriage, to find happiness."

"So, she's the whore, and you have no blame?"

"I didn't say that."

"You pushed her away."

"I know. I pushed her away, just like you're pushing me away, now. Why? Why are you pushing me away?"

"I thought that I wanted this, but I don't."

"Why would you even say that? You are the only person that I want to be with."

"And, when I am lying in bed, next to you, I feel like your dirty little secret."

"Olivia! I am divorced."

"I look at you, and I can't help think about her. And, I can't help think about the faces of your children."

"Liv, stop. Stop feeling guilty. Just be happy. For once, just let yourself be happy."

"I don't know if I can," she admits.

"Beside, my kids don't care."

"You don't know that," she argues.

"Liv, you may not have told anyone, but I have. The kids know. They don't care."

"I don't believe you."

"This is never going to work, is it? I made one mistake, and you're never going to be able to trust me again, are you?"

She blinks away tears, "I don't know."

He wipes the tears from her cheek, with his fingers. No matter how complicated their relationship had ever been, he had always been there for her, he tries to convince himself. He shakes his head, knowing that just isn't true. Cause he walked away, when she needed him the most. He could never say the right words, when she needed to hear them the most. He swallows hard, holding back his own tears, trying to be strong, for her. He takes a breath, hoping what he says next will come out soft, and genuine.

"I have made a lot of mistakes. You know that, better than anyone. You know me, better than anyone. I know my apologies don't really mean anything to you, anymore. I have apologized, so many times, that even I stopped believing me. I know that you lost faith in me. You had every reason to. I just want you to know, that I am here now. I want you to know, that I'm not ever going to leave you, again. No matter how hard you push. No matter how hard, you try to shut me out. I am here for you," he promises taking her in his arms.

"How am I supposed to believe your promises?"

He lets go of her, "You don't have to. It's my job to prove it to you. Look, Liv, I love you. That is never going to change."

She looks at him, knowing it's the one thing that she can believe. She looks into his eyes. He pulls her in, with his big blue eyes. He presses his lips against hers.

As she kisses him, she knows she's lying to herself. She pushes the thought from her mind, as she pulls on his tie. She tries to stay in the moment, but she finds it difficult. He senses her hesitation. He pauses. He presses his lip against her ear. "Liv, I love you," he whispers. She doesn't say it back, she just searches for his lips. She allows herself to get caught up in the moment.

An hour later, she lies in her bed, next to him. They lie under tangled sheets. She just looks at him. His arm is around her. She is close to him, with her hand on his chest. She rests her chin, on his chest, and stares at his face. He looks at her, as she lies there, in silence. The sheet stops, just above her waist. He allows his hand to shift, from just above the small of back, up her spine. He stops between her shoulder blades. He kisses her forehead.

"Liv?"

"Hm?"

"What are you thinking?"

"It's time for you to go home," she answers.

He looks past her, to the alarm clock sitting on her bedside stand.

"Time for me to go home? It's barely ten o'clock."

"You can't stay here," she tells him.

"Why not?"

"Because, I don't want you to."

"Why do you have a guilty conscience? We're not doing anything wrong, here."

"I still feel like we are."

"Olivia I don't have anything I need to go home to."

"I am not ready for you to spend the night," she argues.

"We have been seeing each other for five months, and I still can't spend the night? I have more privileges when I was your partner."

"You're not my partner, anymore," she reminds him.

"I know that. You would never sleep with your partner."

"You have to pick Eli up, in the morning. You should go home, get some rest."

"Ok," he concedes.


	14. Through The Ringer

He sips his coffee. He looks over at her, from the other side of the car, as they drive from the precinct, to talk to the victim's family.

"So, how are things going?"

"What do you mean, Nick?"

"Between you, and mister perfect?"

"Fine," she answers, coldly.

"I don't buy it."

"Why not?" she wonders.

"Because of the look on your face," he answers.

"What look?"

"You don't look happy. You look guilty, or worried. I can't tell which."

"I just have a lot on my mind."

"Olivia, look, I don't know who this guy is. I don't even really care who he is. I just know, by the way he treats you, he's not worth it," he insists, trying not to sound bitter.

"You don't know that," she argues.

"If you don't believe me, put him to the test."

"How?"

He shrugs, "You're an intelligent woman, I am sure that you can come up with something."

"I am sure that I could come up, with a lot of things."

"I am just asking you to choose wisely. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Yeah, ok," she agrees.

* * *

She comes out of the locker room, after they have finished for the day. Fin looks up, from his desk. He smiles at her.

"Hot date?"

"Yeah, I guess that you could say that."

"So things must really be heating up, between you, and prince charming, huh?"

"I guess so."

He furrows his brow, "But, the look on your face tells me that you're about to cool things off, real quick."

"You think?"

"How long have I known you?" he questions.

"Too long."

"So what is going on?"

"Nick says I need to put him to the test," she answers.

"Haven't you been doing that, all along?"

She shrugs, "I don't know."

"Are you going to let us meet him?"

"I'll tell you what, if tonight goes well, you can meet him."

"I probably won't like him," Fin reveals.

"I am sure that you will absolutely hate him," Olivia smiles.

"Only, because, in my eyes, nobody will ever measure up. You deserve someone as great as you are."

"Fin, you're being sappy," she warns.

"It's the truth."

"Thanks."

"Now, get out of here. That dress is way too high class for this place."

"I'll see you in the morning."

"Don't be crying on my shoulder, if you put him through the ringer, and it doesn't work out."

"I'll hunt you down," she jokes.

"Night," he watches her leave the squad room.

"Wish me luck," she calls out, as she waits for the elevator.

* * *

He sits down, across the table from her.

"Sorry I was late, I had to pick Eli up from school, and then Kathy had to work late."

"It's ok. I hope you don't mind, I already ordered."

"I would hope you know what I like, by now."

"I would hope."

He takes sip of his beer, and looks at her.

"No alcohol, again, tonight?"

"Elliot, I have to be at work early in the morning. That is, if I don't get called to a crime scene in the middle of the night."

"Damn weather. The weather warms up, and so does the crime."

"It's not even May, yet," she points out.

"But it's been in the sixties all week. Perfect weather to be outdoors."

"I don't want to talk about work."

"Of course not."

"At least, I don't want to talk about my work. How was your day?"

"Boring. Consulting is so boring. I work an hour a day, and I get paid for eight."

"At least it's not hard work."

"You know, if I were any normal guy I would have just enjoyed retirement. I couldn't. I had to go out, and get another job."

"You do have two kids in college, right now."

"Don't remind me. They drive me insane."

"Sorry."

"I want to talk about you."

"Oh?"

"What is going on, in your life?"

"Elliot, you just saw me, on Friday."

"Yeah, but today, is Monday. Anything new, or exciting?"

"You should finish your drink."

"And, why is that?"

"The waitress is coming this way. I thought you might want another one."

"Why? What's going on?"

"Nothing," she lies.

"Something. Just tell me. Is something going on, at work?"

"No, it has nothing to do, with work."

"Then what?"

"Do you remember a few weeks ago, when we were talking about hypothetical situations?"

"Yes, and it was nearly a month ago. I should have known that you were full of shit, anyway. It had only been three weeks, since you and I..."

She cuts him off, "Yes, I know."

"And there is no way you could have known."

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you bringing it up?"


	15. Ballsy Move

"You know what, I probably shouldn't be. I can see that you're still upset about it."

"I am fine. What's going on?"

"You know what, forget it."

"No, I can't, now."

"I think we're probably done here," she answers.

"I just got here. I don't understand. What is with you? You're all over the place, the past few days."

"I know. I can't help it."

"Look, Olivia, whatever is going on, you should just tell me. If there is something on your mind, you should just say it."

"You're sure about that?"

"Yes," he insists.

"I'm pregnant."

He stares at her, trying to read her facial expression, "What?"

"I'm pregnant," she repeats.

"You can't be," he argues.

"I can't be, or you don't want me to be?" she tries to clarify.

"Now is not a good time. We haven't even been together for six months. I can't believe this. How could you let this happen?" he says, without thinking.

Her eyes widen, "How could _I_ let this happen?"

"So, three weeks, ago, did you know?"

"No."

"When did you find out?" he grills her.

"Does it matter?"

"This can't be happening. I already have five kids," he rants.

"Yes, I know."

"This is a bad idea," he continues to dig his own hole.

Her nostrils flare, "Excuse me?"

"Having a baby, it's a bad idea," he clarifies.

"For who?"

"For us. Olivia we aren't ready for this."

"_We_ aren't ready for this, or you don't want this?"

"I am not ready for this," he chooses a third option.

"Oh, I see."

"You can't have a baby, right now."

"I can't?" she raises an eyebrow. Her cheeks grow redder, by the minute.

"I..."

"You what?"

"Please tell me that you're kidding right now. Tell me that you're just doing this, for dramatic effect."

"Tell you that I'm kidding? Why, so you can claim you're just kidding too? You can have an excuse for acting like an ass?"

"Please," he begs her.

"Please, what?"

"Don't do this to me."

"Don't do what to you?"

"I don't want anymore kids," she tells her.

"Then maybe you should have had a vasectomy," she rages.

"Obviously."

"I can't even believe you, right now."

"Olivia, I am begging you, don't do this."

"Don't do what? What are you asking me?"

He doesn't say anything. He pleas the fifth. He avoids eye contact. She looks at him, and her heart sinks.

"I sincerely hope that you are not asking me, to do, what I think that you are."

"Olivia..." he tries to reason.

She cuts him off, "Say it!"

"Don't make me say it," he pleads.

"You want me to have an abortion?"

"Shh!" he tries to hush her, "There are other people in this restaurant."

"You are the one making a scene," she lowers her tone, "So, is that what you're asking?"

"I..."

"I am glad that I know, where we really stand," she tells him.

"Olivia, don't go," he begs.

"You have given me no reason to stay."

"Is this for real?" he wonders.

She shakes her head, and grabs her purse. She pushes her chair away from the table, "I guess you'll never know, will you?"

* * *

The following morning, she and Fin grab doughnuts, and coffee, for the team, before heading back to the precinct, from their second crime scene of the day. After their three a.m. wakeup calls, and the realization that their perp is a serial, they know that they will need fuel for the long hours ahead of them. He grabs the boxes, as she grabs the drink carriers. They walk towards the exit. When they get on the street, he breaks the silence.

"You're quiet this morning."

"I am tired," she admits.

"Yeah? How did last night go, with prince charming?"

"He turned back into a frog," she reveals.

"Oh? So it went well?"

"I guess Nick was right. He wasn't good enough."

"I told you that. You never listen to me, though, do you?"

"I'm listening now."

"So who was it?"

"It doesn't matter, he's gone, now."

"So what did you do, to test him?"

"It doesn't matter."

"You must have said something, to scare him off. What was it? Did you just now tell him you're a cop?"

"He knew that, from day one."

"Then what?"

"I told him that I was pregnant."

"What on earth would possess you to do that?"

"If you want to see a man's true colors..."

"That's a ballsy move."

"Obviously it didn't work."


	16. First One To Know

"That seems really risky. I mean, isn't that a pretty big lie, to get caught in?"

"Yeah."

"So why did you do it?"

She swallows hard, "Who said that it was a lie?"

He stops, dead, in his tracks. She keeps walking. He just looks at her.

"Olivia."

She turns, and looks at him, "What? Come on, Fin, they're going to think that we got lost."

"I can't tell if you're being serious or not, right now."

"Can we talk about this later?"

"No. I am not letting you off the hook, that easily."

* * *

_She looks down at the counter. The box looks up at her, teasing her. Why had she let her mind get this carried away? She had stopped at the drugstore, to buy a pregnancy test, after bringing up the hypothetical chance. Why? Why would she even allow herself, to think for a single moment, that it is even remotely possible? _

_She is late, by a week. A week, it doesn't seem like that much. But, she has been as regular as clock work, her entire life, despite the high level of stress that comes along with her job. Still, it seems silly. At her age, it was just her body's way of telling her that the ship has sailed. A blatant reminder, that her hopes are gone, taken by father time. _

_She dumps the plastic stick from the box, onto the counter. It flips upside down. She takes a deep breath, knowing to expect disappointment. She flips it over, and stares at it. She stands against the bathroom counter, in front of the mirror, for ten minutes. She doesn't say anything. She doesn't move. Finally, after the ten minutes are up, she lowers herself to the ground, with the plastic stick in her hand. _

_She doesn't know weather to laugh, or to cry. She holds the stick in her hands, just staring at it, unsure of her emotion. _-

* * *

"Are you?" Fin asks her, bringing her back to reality.

"I'll let you know."

"Let me know? That isn't an answer."

Her lips curl into a smile, "Fin, I assure you, if I were, you would be the first person that I would tell."

"So, you're not?"

"We should get back to the precinct."

"I don't know weather to congratulate you, or shake you, right now," he admits.

"We can sort out those mixed emotions, later," she promises.

"Sometimes, I really don't like you."

"I am your favorite, and you know it."

* * *

She's been at work, for over twenty four hours, when she finally gets to go home. She jumps in and out of the shower, and pulls on the first clean articles of clothing that she can find. Ten minutes later, she's passed out on the couch. She's been asleep for all of fifteen minutes, when someone starts knocking on her door. She groans, as she opens her eyes. She looks at her watch. _503. _She rolls off the couch, onto her feet. She goes to the door, and looks out the peephole. She unchains the door.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to apologize."

"Elliot, your apology is not going to cut it."

"I realized you weren't being serious, by the fact that you didn't punch me, in the face."

"It doesn't matter," she insists.

"Of course it does. I want to be with you."

"Go home. You wasted your trip, here."

"Olivia, please."

"Elliot, I don't want to be with you. I thought for a long time, that I did. You proved me wrong. You don't want the same things that I do."

"Olivia..."

"And the fact that you would ask me to..."

"I never asked you to do that. You assumed that I did."

"That's what you wanted, isn't it? You wanted it to all go away?"

"Yes," he admits.

"That's fine. I am gone, from your life, now."

"Olivia, don't do this to me."

"We're over."

"Olivia..." he tries to convince her.

She shakes her head, "You need to leave. I can't be with you. I never want to see you, again."

"You don't mean that."

"Go," she insists.

He takes a step back. She slams the door, in his face. She locks the door, and returns to the couch. She doesn't shed a single tear over him. She lies on the couch, for ten minutes, but she can't get to sleep. She changes out of her pajamas. She grabs her keys, and leaves the apartment. -

* * *

She stands on the doorstep, inhaling the cool, early morning air. She shouldn't be here, she reminds herself. This is a mistake, she tries to convince herself. The door opens, before she can knock. She doesn't say anything. He reaches for her hand, and pulls her in. He closes the door, behind her.

She looks into his dark eyes. She finds herself searching for an answer. He stares back at her. He sees the confusion on her face. He sees the weariness, in her eyes.

"Olivia," he whispers, begging her to tell him what's wrong.

"You were right," she admits.

"I didn't want to be," he defends himself.

"I know that."

"Why are you here? It's not even six o'clock."

She shakes her head, "I don't know."

He pushes her still wet hair, behind her ear. "That's ok," he tells her, as he kisses her lips. She sheds her hooded jacket, without a single word. She surrenders to the safety that she feels, in his arms. He kisses her, slowly, and deliberately. She stops for a moment.

"Don't waste anymore time, thinking about him," Nick tells her.

She pushes away, "I can't do this."

He looks at her, questioningly.

"I don't want to hurt you. This..."

"I am ok, being the rebound."

"I am not ok with that."

"Shh!" he whispers into her ear.


	17. Surreal

She slides out of his bed, and into his shower, after seven o'clock. He is sound asleep, as she redresses. She grabs her watch, and her phone. She grabs her jacket, and her keys, and she leaves him, once again. She doesn't go straight home. This morning, she has somewhere else to be.

* * *

She waits, anxiously, in a waiting room. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, her name is called. She makes her way back to another, much smaller room. The nurse comes in, and out, asking her questions. Olivia transitions into a paper gown, and waits some more. Finally the doctor comes in.

She takes a seat, on the stool. Olivia doesn't hear a word the doctor says. She is too consumed, to pay any attention. Her hands rest at her sides. She looks up, at the ceiling tile, her mind wonders out of the room. Something pulls her back into reality. She looks, at the doctor, who smiles at her. She points at the screen.

"Congratulations, there is your baby."

Olivia's eyes focus on the black, and white image on the screen. She chokes back tears.

* * *

When she gets home, she crawls into bed. She finds her thoughts running rampant, beyond her control. Lying there with her eyes closed, her thoughts wonder back, to weeks, before.

* * *

_She stares at the plastic stick, in disbelief. The bright pink plus sign stares back at her. She smiles, "There is no way," she tells herself. She doesn't allow herself to get too excited. She doesn't want to set herself up to fail._

* * *

_A couple of weeks later, she sits in her doctor's office. She waits for the doctor to return, so that she can go back to work. She had told a white lie. She is supposed to be at the dentist, at least that's what she's told her co-workers, and her boss. There is a knock on the door. The doctor comes into the room. She wears a smile on her face._

_"We got the lab work done."_

_"Oh," Olivia tries to maintain her emotions._

_"You're pregnant. Make an appointment with my receptionist, for a few weeks from now, and I'll do an ultrasound. I wrote you some prescriptions, for prenatal vitamins," she adds. _

* * *

The ringing phone, near her head, brings her back from her deep sleep. She sighs, knowing who is on the other end. She rolls over, reaching for the phone. She grabs it, without opening her eyes.

"Benson," she answers, "Ok. Send me the address," she hangs up. She climbs out of bed. She grabs her gun, badge, phone, and keys. She leaves the apartment, and heads towards her crime scene. When she arrives, she finds that her partner is already there.

"You want to ride, or you want me to?" he questions, as the EMT's move the victim towards the open doors, of their ambulance.

"I always ride, you can take this one."

"Ok," he nods, in agreement.

She meets him at the hospital. He sits in the waiting room.

"What are you doing, out here?" she questions.

"She coded, in the ambulance."

"She died?"

"They were able to revive her. She's in emergency surgery, now. I don't think she's going to be able to talk to us, for a while."

"Why not?"

"They had to intubate her."

"Let's go back to the precinct, we can have them call when she wakes up."

"If," he corrects her.

"She'll wake up."

* * *

When they reach the squad room there are a dozen roses sitting on Olivia's desk. She opens the card. _Liv, I'm sorry._ She pitches the card in the trash can, along with the roses. The entire squad room stares at her.

Fin breaks the silence, "Someone pissed you off."

"Some people just can't take a hint," she answers.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," Nick comments.

"Look, I don't want to talk about my personal life, right now. I want to find the guy who did this to that girl."

"You being angry at prince charming, is not going to help anyone," Nick warns.

"Just shut up! Can we just get to work, please?"

Before he can answer her, the phone at her desk rings. "Benson. Yeah. We'll be right over," she hangs up.

"What's going on?" Nick questions.

"Warner says that she has something we need to see," Olivia answers.

He follows her down to the morgue. Warner waits for them. She pulls on gloves, and moves towards the covered body, on her table.

"I heard about your case," Melinda reveals.

"Our victim wasn't dead," Nick points out.

"Mine is," she pulls down the sheet.

Olivia looks at the victim, lying on Melinda's table. "They look identical. Who is she?"

"Jane Doe one eight seven six four. When I heard about your victim, it reminded me of her."

"She's not a recent victim?" Nick questions.

"She found her way on my table three weeks ago. Perp sliced her trachea, but not very deep. It took hours for her to bleed out."

"What makes you think that it's the same guy?" Olivia asks.

"Because he carved his initials on her, too."

"Son of a bitch," Olivia comments.

Nick's phone rings. He pulls it out of his pocket, "Amaro. Oh. I see. Thank you," he hangs up.

"Who was it?" Olivia inquires.

"The hospital, our girl didn't make it. She lost too much blood."

"We've got to find him, before he finds another victim," Olivia insists.

"We don't even know who our first to victim's are," Nick adds.

"We'll check against missing persons."

"Yeah, ok."

They leave the morgue, and return to the squad room. They're still there, at midnight, that night. By four a.m. they still haven't caught a break. They both take a thirty minute catnap, before returning to the case. Finally, by eight a.m. they have their perpetrator in custody. By noon they get a confession out of him. They both head home, shortly afterwards.


	18. Out Of My Life

The next several weeks consist of several phone calls, that she doesn't answer. It's seven a.m, on a Saturday, when someone starts banging on her door. She takes her time getting to the door. She checks the peephole, and pulls the door open, in anger. He steps inside.

"Elliot, you know this is called harassment," she slams the door.

"Good morning to you, too, sunshine."

She is wearing a Siena College t-shirt, and a pair of pajama bottoms. Her hair is pulled back, into a clip.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"You won't take my phone calls."

"Obviously, you didn't get the memo. We're done. I thought that I was pretty clear about that."

"Olivia I get it. I understand."

"You understand," she raises her eyebrow.

"Your little stunt was an attempt to test me. I failed, obviously. I am sorry for the way that I acted. I am sorry for the things that I said. I have had a lot of time to think. I haven't seen you, in six weeks. You won't even answer my phone calls. I needed to talk to you."

"I don't have anything to talk to you about," she raises her voice.

"You pushed me away, because you're afraid to be happy. Look, I know that it's scary, but Liv, I love you."

"You are an idiot. Elliot, I am not afraid of being happy. I am afraid of being stuck with a tool like you, for the rest of my life. I don't want to make that mistake."

"You don't mean that."

"You need to leave."

"Olivia, don't be that way. You can't tell a guy that you're pregnant, with his kid, and then not answer his phone calls."

"First of all, who said it was yours? Secondly, you don't believe me."

"Because you're not pregnant. It was a ploy, to see how I would react."

"You acted like an asshole," she reminds him.

"I know. I'm sorry. I want to be with you."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

"You essentially asked me to have an abortion."

He takes a step closer to her, "Liv what do you want me to say? I acted like an ass-hole, I admit it. Can we just move on, please? I know you told me that, to get me to evaluate my own feelings. You wanted to see how I would react. I screwed up, I get it."

"No, you don't get it. You're a bastard," she yells. She swallows hard, "Can you please take a step back."

He takes a step back, "I am sorry that I am in your personal space. Please, just forgive me."

"I can't do that. I have more self-respect than that."

"Look, Olivia, I was scared. I acted foolishly. I had flash-backs. I never want to be trapped in a relationship, again."

"You know I am not Kathy."

"I know that. I also know that I behaved like a child. Please forgive me."

"That is never going to happen."

"Look, if you decide that you want to have a baby, somewhere down the line, I will support that. How can I make you see, how sorry I am."

"Go to hell."

"Olivia why are you acting so belligerent?"

"I have every right to. You are harassing me. I thought that you got the picture. I don't want to have anything to do with you. Stop calling me. You have some audacity to show up to my apartment, at seven o'clock on a Saturday. What the hell is wrong with you? Do you really think that I would lie to you? Is that who I am? Is that who I have ever been? Elliot, I don't want you here."

"Olivia, please," he begs, stepping closer.

She claps her hand over her mouth. She runs out of the room, without a word. Several minutes later, she returns to the living room, hoping that he's gone. He stands in front of the door, waiting on her, with his arms folded across his chest. She smells of mouthwash. Luckily the smell of mouthwash overpowers the smell of his cheap cologne.

"Sticking to your story?" he questions, cockily.

"I am not a perp. I am not a suspect. I was your partner, for twelve years. I deserve more credit than that."

"You really expect me to believe that you were in there throwing up?"

She shoves him away from her, "El, back the hell up."

"Or, what? You're going to hit me."

"I really don't want to puke on you. Your cologne is making me sick."

"You're trying to scare me off. Just stop. Stop with the act. I know you're not pregnant. I know you weren't in there throwing up."

The vein in her forehead pulsates. Her cheeks are red, and they burn with anger.

"Elliot I have been puking my guts out, for weeks."

"I don't believe you."

She pulls up her shirt, and exposes her abdomen. "You don't believe me?"

He stares at the abdomen, and then looks at her.

"What is that you're trying to prove? Your stomach doesn't prove anything. Liv, I look more pregnant, than that," he points.

She grits her teeth, "Maybe because I have spent the last couple of months with my head in the toilet. The fact that you don't believe me, just proves we shouldn't be together. Of all the people in the world, I am the one person who would never lie to you."

He just looks at her face. He says nothing. The color drains from his face. She turns, and goes into the kitchen. She goes over to the fridge. There are a sea of take-out menus on her fridge plastered to it's surface, with magnets. She pulls off the picture, that sits on top of two layers of take-out menus. She hands it to him.

"What would possess me to lie about being pregnant? It would be cruel, to you, and even more cruel, to myself."

He doesn't take the picture from her. He just stares at it. He reads the name, at the top of the picture. Clearly, it's hers. He stares at the black, and white image that proves she's pregnant.

"Olivia, I am so sorry. Please forgive me."

"I am never going to forgive you. Get the hell out of my apartment, and the hell out of my life."

"I can't do that. You're having my baby."

"No, I'm not."

"What do you mean? Of course you are."

"It's not yours. You need to leave, now."

"How do I know that you're not just saying that?"

She swallows hard, trying to fight off the tears, "You don't."

"I..."

"Even if it is, it will be a cold day, in hell, before you ever get to see it."

He pulls the door open, and backs out of the apartment. The picture of her, in a full rage, remains in his head, as he walks down the hallway.


	19. Offers

Hours later, she's sound asleep on the couch, when someone starts banging on her door. She opens her eyes, and groans. She gets off the couch. As she walks towards the door she hollers, "I thought that I told you to go to hell." She unlocks the door, pulling it open, without looking through the peephole.

The party on the other side stares at her, with a cocked eyebrow. He just looks at her, standing there, in front of him, still wearing her pajamas.

"Not recently," he admits.

"Sorry, Fin, I thought that you were someone else."

"You forgot about me, didn't you?"

"We were going to lunch," she realizes, allowing him to step into the apartment. He gently closes the door, behind himself.

"Yeah."

"What time is it?"

"Noon."

"I am so sorry. I fell asleep on the couch."

"When was the last time that you slept until noon?"

She shrugs, "I don't know."

"So, who were you telling to go to hell? Did prince charming stop by?"

"He just doesn't get it. I won't answer his calls, or call him back, so what does he do? He shows up, here, at seven o'clock in the morning, on a Saturday."

"And, you had an argument?"

"Yeah. He's..." she pauses, "He is a lot of things."

"So, you told him to go to hell?"

"Among other things," she admits.

"He really pissed you off?"

"Yeah."

"Are you ever going to tell me who he is?"

"Nope."

"So mama, do you still want to go to lunch?"

"I am not that hungry."

"You spent your morning with your head in the toilet, again?"

She simply nods, "Which is why I wanted to buy your lunch," she remembers.

"You didn't tell me you were buying. What's the occasion?"

"You being a good guy, and covering for me."

"And stocking you squad car, with barf bags," he adds, with a smile.

"Yeah, that too."

"So, are you going to tell anyone else, anytime soon?"

"I hadn't planned on it."

"They are going to find out, eventually," he points out.

"So let them find out, on their own."

"I almost forgot, I brought you a present."

"I don't know how you could top barf bags," she jokes.

He hands her the box. She looks at the box, and then looks at him.

"Tea?" she raises her eyebrow.

"It's a special tea. I got it in China town. The lady behind the counter said that it would cure morning sickness."

"This tea is going to cure my morning sickness?"

"That is what she said."

"What else did she say? Did she try to sell you snake oil, too?"

"I threatened her. I told her if she was lying, I would arrest her for fraud. She gave me that box for free. She told me when it worked to come back."

"She probably put a curse on it, or something. What if my baby comes out, with two heads?"

"Just drink it."

"And if it doesn't work?"

"No harm, no foul. Oh, speaking of foul, she said that it smells, and tastes terrible."

"What's in it?"

"Hell if I know. Just try it."

"At this point, I would stand on my head, if it would cure my morning sickness."

"You mean, your all day sickness?"

"Exactly."

"So what were you arguing about with mister imperfect."

"Everything."

"And you sent him packing?"

"Yeah."

"Does he know that you were telling the truth, about being pregnant?"

"He does now," she admits, as she fills her tea kettle with water.

"Do you think he'll be back?"

"I doubt it."

"Why, what did you say?"

"I told him that it wasn't his," she adds, as she sets the kettle on the stove, and turns on the burner.

"Is that true?"

She shrugs, "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"Look, I don't want to talk about it."

"Ok. So, are we going to lunch, or not? I'm starving."

"Yeah, watch the water, and I'll go put some clothes on."

"You don't want to go in your pajamas?"

"I wouldn't care, but I don't want to embarrass you."

"You think that is going to embarrass me?"

"I'll change."

"Ok," he agrees. She leaves the kitchen, and goes to her room, to find some clean clothes. As she's getting dressed, he waits in the kitchen. The kettle begins to whistle. He lifts it off the burner. He turns the burner off, and grabs a cup out of the cabinet. He puts the tea bag in the cup, and pours in the water. When she comes out of her room, she catches him, sniffing it.

"What are you doing?"

"She was right, this stuff smells foul."

"I don't care what it smells like. If it works, I'll buy a truckload of it."

"We'll know soon enough."

"Fin, thank you."

"Just remember how grateful you are, when it comes time to name the baby," he teases.

"I don't know what I'm having."

"Fin, works, either way."

"I have a better idea."

"What's that?"

"You can be the godparent."

"Sold."


	20. Unknown

"Can I ask you something?"

They're sitting at a diner, about a block from her apartment. She swallows her sip of water, and looks up at him.

"Sure."

"What's going on with you lately?" Fin questions.

"I think that it's pretty clear."

"That isn't what I mean."

"What do you mean?" she raises an eyebrow.

"You just aren't yourself, lately."

"How so?"

"You have always been a private person, but..."

She cuts him off, "But, what?"

"There is something more to it, than that. Look, Liv I know there is something going on, that you aren't telling me."

"Why do you think that?"

"You won't tell me who the bastard is that you were seeing."

"It doesn't matter."

"See, that's what I am talking about."

"What?"

"You just act like you don't give a damn, anymore."

"Honestly, I don't know if I do. I have spent so much time playing by all of the rules. And I am not sure what that ever earned me."

"Respect," he answers.

"I am not talking about the job. I am talking about life. What is it that I am trying to prove, by following all of the rules, all of the time?"

"That's just the kind of person you are," he points out.

"Not anymore."

"And this guy on the side, who is he?"

"What?!"

"The guy you were seeing, you won't tell me about him, because obviously it's someone I know. It is someone I wouldn't approve of."

"Ok, and?"

"And, this other guy, that I know exists, you haven't even mentioned him."

"Fin," she furrows her brow, "when did you become so interested in my personal life?"

"Look, I just don't want to see you get hurt. I know that you're a grown ass woman, and you can handle yourself, but..."

She cuts him off, "I screwed up."

"Is that a confession, or a question?"

"A confession. I screwed up. I have screwed up, a lot of times, in a lot of ways, and it never really mattered."

"But?"

"Now is the one time, in my entire life, that it matters, and I completely screwed it up."

"What happened?"

"Have you ever wanted something for so long, that when you get it, after a few days, you realize, that you didn't really want it?"

He smiles, "When I was sixteen I worked all summer, to save up enough money for a car. I got this beast, that I thought was going to bring me ladies."

"It didn't?"

"No girl wants to smell like burning oil. Anyway, I got up one morning, and I went out to the car. Some fool had ran into it, and dented the entire driver's side. I realized it wasn't worth the effort. I could find better ways to spend my money."

"I thought that I could make it work. I thought he was the one."

"Liv," he touches her arm, which rests on the end of the table. Her fingers are wrapped around her glass. "I hate to tell you this, but the only one, is the one that you're with."

"I hate failure."

"What happened?"

"Sometimes that thing that you're looking for, just isn't there. I didn't feel the way that I thought I would."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to be anybody's ball and chain."

"You were afraid that was what would happen?"

"Yeah."

"You panicked? You thought maybe there was something better out there?"

"Yeah," she admits.

"And, was it?"

She shrugs, "I wish that I knew. I wish I knew how I felt."

"You know," he insists.

"I feel guilty."

"Guilty, for what?"

"Being all of the things that I never wanted to be. I feel guilty, for doing all of the things that I vowed I would never do."

"We all make mistakes."

"I cheated."

"It happens."

She shakes her head, "I am not that kind of person. I don't know what happened."

"Life happened."

"I don't know what I expected to happen."

"Did you think you would end up with this other guy?"

"No."

"So you were just looking for a reason to get rid of mister perfect?" he questions.

"No."

"You were trying to figure out, if mister perfect was really the one?"

She furrows her brow, "I don't know. I guess."

"Was he?"

"No."

"Is the other guy?"

"No, at least I don't think so."

"Why are you beating yourself up about this? Who cares? They're both out of the picture. You can move on."

"How? How am I supposed to do that? The one thing in my life that I wanted more than anything, I managed to screw up."

His eyes widen as he makes the realization, "You don't know, which one it is."

She shakes her head, "No."


	21. The Other Guy

"It'll be ok," he promises her.

She swallows hard, choking back tears, "I don't see how."

"Because, it doesn't matter. You're going to be great."

"I don't feel great. I never expected for this to happen. I never anticipated that I would get pregnant. At my age, I just figured that it wasn't something that was going to happen for me. I had given up on that thought. It never once crossed my mind, that I could get pregnant. But I did."

"You just have to be grateful."

"I am but, it is hard. It could not have happened at a worse time, under worse circumstances. I never wanted to be a single parent," she admits.

"Nobody does," he reminds her.

"I feel like I have already let this kid down."

"How?"

"Because I screwed up, so completely. What am I supposed to say to a kid?"

"You don't have to say anything."

"Yes, I do. I am not going to lie."

"Just say that you don't know," Fin insists.

"It kills me. How could I not know? How could I have been so stupid? I am old enough to know better."

"You really don't have any idea?"

"No," she shakes her head, "It is too close to say."

"I mean how close are we talking, a day, or two?"

"Maybe a week."

"Ok. What is your gut telling you?"

"That I was stupid."

"You can't look at it that way."

"How else can I look at it?"

"That this is a blessing," he offers.

"You're right."

"So does the other guy know?"

"No."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"I hadn't planned on it."

"You should tell him, he's a good guy."

"What did you say?"

"I said that you should tell him."

"The other part."

Fin grits his teeth, "He's a good guy."

"Are you assuming that, or do you know that?"

"If he's with you, I would hope that he's a good guy," he tries to cover.

"Fin?"

"I noticed how awkward things have been lately."

"Awkward how?"

"With you, and your partner. The two of you have tension between you, that I didn't see before."

"Fin, you're reading way too much into the situation."

"Really? Liv, I thought that you respected me more than that. You're going to look me in the eye, and lie?"

"Fin..."

"Nah. I know you. I know what I saw. I have been a cop, for a lot of years. Gimme some credit."

"I..."

"You don't want me to know, I get it. If it comes up, I can't know. Fine, whatever. I just know that I have seen a change, between the two of you."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't want you to say anything. I need you to listen."

"Ok," she nods.

"You don't always have to play by the rules. I know this is a tough situation, and you're worried you're going to lose your job."

"But?"

"He's a good guy. He deserves to know."

"Maybe I should transfer."

"That would be like admitting guilt."

"I am pregnant, it won't be long, before I have to ride a desk, anyway."

"Speaking of which, when are you going to tell the captain?"

"Not yet."

"It's safe to tell him now, isn't it?"

"Probably."

"So?"

"I would just feel better..."

"You're going to let him find out on his own?"

She shrugs, "I don't know."

"Your barfing will stop, eventually."

"It should have, already."

* * *

That evening, she leaves the apartment. Feeling guilty, she finds herself heading to his place. She stands on his doorstep, just staring at his door. She glances at the doorbell, and wonders what the right thing to do is. Should she tell him? She swallows hard, with Fin's words ringing in her head. She raises her fist, and knocks on the door. He hears footsteps, and he opens the door. He smiles at her. The look on her face makes his smile disappear.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, can I come in, for a minute?"

"Sure," he nods.

He closes the door, after she steps in.

"What's going on?" he questions, with a look of concern on his face.

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Ok, what's going on?"

"There is something I need to tell you."

"Ok."

Before she can tell him, they're interrupted. A dark haired little girl comes into the room. She's wearing her pajamas, and her hair is wet. Nick turns, and looks at the little girl.

"Zara, why aren't you in bed?" Nick questions.

"I needed a drink of water," she announces.

"You had a story, and a drink. You brushed your teeth, and had your bath. It is time for you to go to bed. It is almost ten o'clock."

"One more story, daddy."

"Ok. Go back to bed, and I'll be in, in a minute, ok?"

"Hi, Olivia," she smiles, and waves.

"Hi, Zara."

Zara leaves the room. Nick turns, and looks at Olivia.

"What is it that you needed to tell me?"

"Uh, nothing that can't wait. Zara is waiting on you."

"Something is bothering you, what is it?"

"I didn't know Zara was here."

"It's ok."

"I just wanted to tell you that," she reaches into her pocket. She pulls out a watch, "I couldn't find the right time, to give this back. I found your watch, at my place."

"That's it?"

"Yeah," she turns, and walks out the door.


	22. Same Mistakes

When she gets home, she heads to the shower. She showers quickly, and climbs into a pair of pajamas. She crawls into bed, with a wet head. After less than twenty minutes she knows that sleep isn't coming. She gets out of bed, and heads for the couch. She doesn't turn on the TV, she just stares out the window, instead.

"Why didn't you tell him?" She rolls her eyes, "Tell him what?" she replies, to herself, "No good conversation starts out oh by the way I'm pregnant, and it might be yours. How could I be so stupid?"

She flips on the TV, and watches, until she falls asleep, hours later.

She wakes up to the sound of someone knocking on her door. She looks at her watch. She shakes her head, in disbelief, that she's slept that long. She gets off the couch, and heads to the door. She looks out the peephole, and unchains the door. She unbolts the lock, and pulls the door open. The party on the other end steps in.

"Nick, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with Zara?"

"I am not the only one here, who wants to see her. She and my mother went shopping, for a couple of hours."

"It's barely seven o'clock."

"I dropped her off at breakfast, at my mom's house."

"What are you doing here? You should be with your daughter."

"She wanted to see her grandma, don't sweat it."

"Why are you here?"

"Are you ok?" he questions, closing the door.

"I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?"

"Because when you stopped at my house last night, I got the feeling that something wasn't right."

"Everything is fine," she lies.

"Olivia, what is going on? Last night, you were trying to tell me something, what was it?"

"Don't worry about it."

"You're my partner. It's my job to worry about you."

"Today is Sunday, it's your day off," she reminds him.

"It's only a matter of time until we get called to a crime scene. I am surprised we made it through an entire day."

"Which, is exactly why you should be spending this time with your daughter, instead of worrying about me."

"Liv, just tell me what's going on."

"Stop worrying about me."

"Come on, just tell me."

"I wanted to apologize, for jerking you around," she lies.

"For jerking me around?" he raises an eyebrow.

"I crossed a line. I am sorry."

"Just stop. There is nothing to be sorry for."

"You are my partner."

"So?"

"Look, you shouldn't be here."

"I am here, so explain this to me."

"I am not that kind of person. I follow the rules. I was in a relationship. I am not a cheater. I don't know what came over me. I don't know what possessed be to have such poor judgment."

"Olivia, just calm down. Do you really think that this was a mistake?"

She breaks eye contact, her glance falls to the floor. She says nothing. He takes a step closer. She suddenly realizes that he is wearing a pair of jeans, and a t-shirt, instead of a suit, and tie. He tips her chin, towards him, to get her to look at him.

"Do you really think that this was a mistake?"

She says nothing. He kisses her lips. She kisses him back, being taken in, once again. Things begin progressing, and he reaches for her shirt. She stops him.

"We can't do this, again," she takes a step back.

"We can do whatever we want," he tells her.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she clarifies.

"Give me one good reason," he insists.

"You're my partner."

"Other than that," he argues.

She tries to come up with something, instead she comes up with nothing.

"If you can't come up with anything, how am I supposed to believe that?"

"I think this is a bad idea," she voices her concerns.

"I don't."

"Nick, this is going to end badly."

He leans forward, and whispers into her ear, "You don't know that."

His voice sends chills down her spine. As he begins to kiss her, again, all sense of reason goes out the window. She kisses him back. Her instincts take over. They drown out her conscience. She ignores the voice in her head, that screams at her, telling her this is a bad idea.

* * *

He looks at the clock, sitting on her bedside stand. She looks over at him.

"Go," she tells him, knowing he should get back to his daughter.

He slips out of her bed, and gathers his belongings. She lies there, in silence, as the door shuts. She climbs out of her bed, and into the shower. As the warm water hits her, the thoughts flow out of her. She methodically massages her scalp, rubbing the shampoo in.

"What are you doing?" she asks herself, "This is never going to work."

When she gets done in the shower she dries her hair, and she puts on clean clothes. She avoids the mirror, knowing that it will end up in a stand off. As she brushes her teeth, all she can think about is how she's kidding herself. She spits out the toothpaste, and rinses with mouthwash. As she reaches for the floss, the reality of the situation hits her.

She's pregnant. She is pregnant, and she doesn't know who the father of her unborn child is. And, she can't tell her partner. Her partner, she repeats in her head, scolding herself. She's slept with her partner. She's slept with her former partner, too. One of them is the father. How could she have screwed up, so badly? She has been sleeping with her partner. Now she's pregnant. There is no way, that she can tell him.

As she moisturizes her face, she wonders if she can crawl under a rock, and hide. If she never saw her partner's face, again, it would be too soon. Her cheeks sting, with embarrassment.

She's in the kitchen, drinking tea, when her cell phone rings.

"Benson," she answers, "Yeah, I'll be there in a few," she hangs up.

She grabs her gun, badge, and keys, and heads for the door.


	23. Mind Games

He notices that something isn't quite right. He doesn't say anything to his partner. He doesn't want to confront her, but she begins slowly withdrawing, and locking him out. She's sitting at her desk, after a long day, finishing up paperwork.

"Olivia?"

She looks up, and finds her partner standing at the end of her desk.

"Yeah?"

"Wanna grab a bite?"

"I can't Nick, I've really got to finish this paperwork."

"Let me rephrase that, we're going to go grab a bite."

"Nick, you can't just make me go to dinner. I told you, I have paper-work to do."

"What is with the attitude?"

"I am just tired."

"Well you've been tired a lot lately."

"Nick," she warns, "Now is not the time."

"You're my partner, and I am telling you that we need to talk."

She shoves her chair out, and gets up. She grabs her purse, and huffs, "Fine, let's go."

* * *

They have already ordered, and received their beverages, but she has barely said two words to him. He looks at her.

"So, what, now you won't even talk to me? You're acting like a child."

She looks up at him, "Nick, I don't have time for this. I have things that I need to be doing."

"That's fine. I am only asking for a few minutes of your time. I am your partner, you should be willing to give me a couple of minutes."

"I am here, aren't I?"

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"With what?"

"With you."

"Why would you think that there is anything going on with me?"

"You've been pushing me away."

"I haven't been pushing you away," she disagrees.

"Yeah, you have," he argues.

"I just have a lot of stuff on my mind. Last time I checked, it wasn't a crime."

"Olivia, just talk to me. You're not yourself lately, is something going on?"

"Nothing is going on. I am fine."

"Stop lying to me. What is going on with you?"

"The job is just wearing on me."

"No, it's more than that," he points out.

"Why don't you tell me what you think it is?" she snaps.

"Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong? The only person that you seem angry at, is me."

"No, you didn't do anything wrong. I am angry at myself."

"For what?" he furrows his brow.

"I guess I just thought that I would be at a different place in my life, by now. I'm frustrated."

"I understand that."

"I am sorry if I have been taking it out on you, that was never my intention."

"Why don't we eat, and then I'll take you home?"

She shakes her head, "No. I can't."

He doesn't say anything."

"I can't keep doing this. You knew the deal from the beginning."

"And you suddenly developed a sense of wrong-doing, or what?"

"I am not having this conversation with you," she warns.

"Olivia, come on," he begs.

She slides out of the booth, and heads for the door. He places money on the table, and leaves the restaurant, to chase after her. When he exits the building it takes him a moment to figure out which direction she's gone. He finally spots her, and then runs after her. She's only walking, but she's still difficult to catch up to. When he finally catches up to her, he places a hand on her shoulder.

"Olivia, talk to me."

She spins around, and looks at him, with tears in her eyes. She doesn't say a word. He just looks at her. Without a second thought he wraps her in a hug. When he lets go, she's still crying. He pulls a tissue out of his jacket pocket, and hands it to her.

"What is going on with you?"

"I just have a lot going on in my life right now."

"So talk to me. Olivia," he says softly, "I am your partner, first, and foremost. You can talk to me. I'm not going to judge you. I have your back, no matter what," he reminds her.

"I have ruined every single relationship that I have been in. Nick, I don't want to lose my partner."

"Olivia, I am not going anywhere."

"They all do, eventually."

"I am not like them. I am not going to leave you. Just tell me what is going on."

"I don't want what has happened to ruin our partnership."

"So you're ending it?"

She simply nods, "You're a good guy, and I don't want you to get the wrong impression. I am not this kind of person. I have never,"

He cuts her off, "I know that."

"I am sorry if you thought that..."

He cuts her off, again, "I didn't."

"It was a bad decision," she admits.

"What about mister right?"

"What about him?"

"It didn't work out?"

"No. He isn't mister right. He's a prick. I don't know what possessed me to think that he was worth my time. He is an asshole. He never deserved a second chance."

"It's better that you know, instead of having some idealized fantasy about how things could have been."

"I should have seen it sooner."

"You were too close. It's ok. You'll move on, and find someone else. You'll find the one."

"When?"

"Soon."

"You don't know that. Nick, I am tired of playing games, with men. I just want one honest, decent guy. Is that so much to ask for?"

"No. He's still out there, you've just got to keep looking."

"Not right now. I have been burnt too many times. I have other things to worry about, anyway."

He furrows his brow, "What other things?"

"Work, and stuff."

"Your job isn't going anywhere. What stuff are you talking about?"

"It's nothing," she tells him, as she turns, and walks away.


	24. Close To Home

She stands in her closet, sighing in frustration. She puts the shirt back on the hanger, and reaches for the next one. She pulls on the shirt, and attempts to button it. It buttons, but it is tight in all of the wrong places. She tucks it into her pants, and it looks even worse. She unbuttons it, and tosses it on the ground. She wants to stomp on it, she's so irritated. She finds a loose fitting navy blue t-shirt. She puts it on, and finds a jacket to put on over it. She buttons the middle button, out of three. She looks in the mirror, and decides that it's as good as she's going to get.

As she walks into the squad room her partner throws her a questioning look. He raises an eyebrow.

"What?"

"That's what you're wearing?" he questions.

"It's getting warm, and my long sleeved shirts are getting too hot. What is wrong with what I'm wearing."

"Nothing if we were at a crime scene, or even at the office."

"Where else would we be?"

"Olivia we had court today."

"Oh, that's why you asked me if this is what I'm wearing?"

He nods, "I mean there is nothing wrong with it..." he pauses.

"It just doesn't look very professional, for court."

"Exactly."

"I forgot that we had court today," she admits.

"Don't you have an extra shirt in your locker? I always keep one in mine."

"I had to wear it the other day."

"I forgot about that."

"I haven't had the chance to do laundry. Most of what I own is in the laundry hamper."

"You don't get your stuff dry cleaned?"

Munch chimes in, with a smirk, "Nick, let me tell you something about your partner that you don't know. Olivia is a decent person, and a good partner."

Nick cuts him off, "I already know that."

"I wasn't finished. She's also a cheapskate."

"I am not a cheapskate," Olivia argues.

"You have never once bought me lunch," Munch points out.

"We never go to lunch," she reminds him.

"What I am trying to say is she prefers to wash her stuff, because she thinks that dry cleaning is a waste of money," Munch explains.

"I can admit that is true. I don't like the way my clothes turn out when I take them to the dry cleaner."

"You never take anything to the dry cleaner?" Nick raises an eyebrow.

"Some stuff," she admits.

Nick looks at his watch, "As riveting as this conversation is, we are going to have to go. We need to get over to the courthouse."

"Ok," she nods, in agreement.

* * *

From the courthouse they immediately have to go to a crime scene. The crime scene is at an abandoned lot, adjacent to the Hudson river. Dr. Warner has already arrived, when they pull up. They get out of the car, and join her at the crime scene. Melinda is in the back seat of an abandoned car. Nick, and Olivia peer into the back seat of the car. They find they lifeless infant strapped in a seat. Olivia looks over at Melinda.

"I know that it is warm out today, but it isn't that warm is it? I mean even if they left the car in the hot sun for hours, there is no way that the inside of the car could be hot enough to kill this baby."

"It hasn't even reached seventy yet. I checked the temperature in here. It was only eighty, in the hot sun," Melinda reveals.

"So what's cause of death?" Nick questions.

"I'll know more when I get her back to the morgue."

Nick shakes his head, "What is wrong with people? If you don't want your kid you can drop them off at any hospital, fire station, or police station."

"I don't know."

* * *

Hours later, they have returned from the crime scene, and are tracking down possible leads as to who their victim is. They spend over an hour sorting through missing person's reports, before the phone rings. Olivia lifts the receiver of the phone on her desk.

"Benson. Yeah, we'll be down," she hangs up.

Nick looks up from his desk. Olivia anticipates his question, before he asks it, "That was Warner, she has something for us."

When they arrive in autopsy Melinda has the body uncovered, laying on her table. She puts on gloves, and they wait for her to begin.

"Did you determine cause of death?" Nick questions, looking at the baby.

"I believe so."

Olivia furrows her brow, "You haven't even opened her up yet."

"I started my external exam first. I did x-rays, and sent evidence down to the lab. I was getting ready to start my incision when they called."

"What did they find?"

"A blood alcohol level that would be fatal to an infant this age."

"So you're ruling it accidental?" Nick questions.

"I am not going to rule it anything, until I have finished my autopsy."

"But that is what you're leaning towards, right now?"

"I don't know that I would call it accidental," Melinda begins, "A three month old baby doesn't accidentally ingest alcohol."

"You could have told us that on the phone," Nick adds.

"There was something else I wanted to show you," she reveals. She leads them over to the photo box. She points at the x-rays.

"X-rays of her head?""I found evidence of cerebral edema, as well as a hairline fracture to the frontal area of a skull."

"Someone dropped her?" Nick guesses.

"Infants have pliable bones. Do you know how much force would be required to cause a fracture of the skull to a child this age?"

"What are you saying?"

Melinda grabs a doll off the counter. "In order to cause an injury you would have to slam the child's head against something." She demonstrates by banging the dolls head against the edge of the counter.

"What could a three month old baby possibly do, to make you slam it's head against something?" Olivia wonders.


	25. Tough Case

She's sitting at her desk, hours later, sorting through evidence. Her partner is at his desk, doing the same. He gets up from his seat to grabs something off the printer. He grabs the piece of paper, and stops at his partner's desk.

"Are you ok?" he questions.

She shakes her head, "Not really. Someone slammed their baby against a hard surface, around the same time they fed them breast milk that was full of alcohol. Melinda said that she found signs of neglect, and mal-nourishment. We still don't know who that little girl is. They probably didn't even report her missing."

"I think I found her. A report was just filed, a couple of hours ago."

"By who?"

"William and Elizabeth Thompson," he holds up the picture that he's printed off, "This is their granddaughter Nevaeh. I've got an address."

"Let's go."

* * *

They knock on the door of a brownstone, on the upper east side. A maid answers the door. Nick, and Olivia flash their badges.

"We're looking for Mister, and Misses Thompson."

"They are in the dining room, right this way," she leads them in. They follow her to the dining room. They find the couple at the dining room table. Mrs. Thompson cries, and holds on to a cup of warm tea. Her husband sits next to her. They show their credentials.

"Mister, and Misses Thompson, I am detective Amaro, and this is my partner detective Benson. We are with the special victim's unit. We wanted to ask you some questions about your granddaughter."

"Have a seat," William tells them.

They join them at the table. Elizabeth wipes her face, with a tissue. "Did you find her?"

"Do you have anything that we could use to compare DNA to that belonged to Nevaeh?" Nick questions.

"Did you find her?" Elizabeth repeats.

Nick takes a photo out of his pocket. He places it on the table in front of them, "We found a baby consistent with the description of your granddaughter."

William studies the picture. The infant looks as if she's sleeping. He notices the shiny silver background. "Is she dead?" He questions.

"We don't know for sure if she's your granddaughter," Nick reminds them.

"Can we ask you a few questions?" Olivia wonders.

"Anything," Elizabeth nods.

"When did you last see your granddaughter?"

"Jenna took her with her this morning. She had to drop Nevaeh off at her other grandparents house. That was about seven," Elizabeth explains.

"And how did she act?"

"Navaeh was sleeping. She had her covered up in the car seat, when I saw her leaving," Elizabeth reveals.

"Your daughter lives with you?" Olivia questions.

"Of course she does. Jenna is only seventeen."

"Where is your daughter, now? We would like to ask her some questions," Nick wonders.

"She's upstairs, in her room."

"When did you realize that Nevaeh was missing?"

"We didn't. Carol, Nevaeh's paternal grandmother called us around ten. She went to a brunch in the city, and when she came back Navaeh wasn't in her crib. She thought that maybe one of us picked her up early."

"Who was with the baby last?"

"Maria, Carol's housekeeper. She said that the baby was sleeping when she checked on her, around eight thirty."

"So no one checked on her, for an hour and a half?" Olivia asks, in disbelief.

"She takes a nap at the same time, every day. From eight to ten she naps, like clockwork."

"We're going to need to talk to your daughter," Nick insists.

"Go ahead," William agrees.

"Would one of you like to be there, when we talk to her?"

"No," William answers.

"Are you sure?"

"Her room is upstairs. It's the last room on the right," he adds.

* * *

Nick, and Olivia climb the stairs. They head down the hallway to the teenager's room. The knock on the door.

"Come in," the voice on the other side tells them.

Nick opens the door, and they enter the room. The teenager sits at her desk, on the computer.

"Jenna, I'm detective Benson, and this is my partner detective Amaro. We have some questions that we want to ask you."

"Ok," she turns her chair towards them.

"Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt your baby?" Olivia opens.

"No. Did you find her?"

"We will have to confirm with DNA that it is her. Do you have anything that belongs to her?"

"Yeah," she nods, vacating her seat. She leads them into the other room. They follow her into the baby's room. She opens the laundry hamper, and pulls out a pink cap. Olivia puts it in an evidence bag.

"You think that you found her?" Jenna questions.

"Yeah," Nick confirms.

"Is she ok?"

"The little girl that we found, matches your daughter's description," Nick admits.

"Is she ok?"

"That little girl is dead," he reveals.

"No, she can't be."

"Jenna what happened?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Someone must have taken her. I dropped her off at Ryan's parents before school. She was supposed to stay with them all weekend."

"You didn't cut class, and go back, and take her?" Nick wonders.

"No. Do you think that I hurt my baby? I would never hurt her."

"Really," Olivia raises an eyebrow, "You're seventeen, a baby must get in the way. Your friends get to go out, and they get to party, and you're stuck at home taking care of a baby. That can't be any fun. I bet that she cries, and it makes you angry. Maybe you just wanted some peace, and quiet. You thought that you could make her be quiet."

"No. I didn't hurt her."

"Jenna how are we supposed to believe you? We just told you that your daughter might be dead, and you haven't even shed a tear. You don't seem too broke up about it, at all," Nick says, coldly.


	26. Just In Case

Within a couple of hours they are able to match the DNA to the Thompson baby. They bring Jenna in for questioning. Olivia, and Nick enter the interrogation room. They take a seat across the table from her. They mirandize her, and begin to ask questions.

"Jenna you need to tell us what happened to your baby," Nick insists.

"I don't know. I didn't do it."

"You didn't want a baby, did you?" Olivia inquires.

"Why would you say that?"

"We have transcripts of your text messages, and instant messages to your friends. You didn't like being a mother. You were tired of taking care of her. Weren't you?"

"I would never hurt her."

"Where were you last night?" Nick queries.

"At home, with my baby," Jenna insists.

"Really? Your parents were at a charity dinner from seven, until midnight. The maid said she thought you left right after they did."

"I didn't go anywhere."

"Jenna we know that you're lying. We have video footage of you at a friend's party."

"It wasn't me."

The vein in Olivia's head pulsates, "And when you got home your baby was screaming, because she was hungry. You had been drinking, a lot. You just wanted her to be quiet. Your parents wouldn't let you feed her formula, would they?"

"It was too much. With school, I didn't have time to feed her every couple of hours, or pump. They were being ridiculous."

"You bought formula, didn't you?"

"Yes. I just wanted one night of sleep," she admits.

"But when you went to get it, they had thrown it out," Olivia theorizes, "So, even though you were drunk you fed her anyway."

"What choice did I have?"

"And then she was quiet," Olivia adds.

"She finally fell asleep."

"Tell me, when did you hit her head?"

"I didn't," she argues.

Nick's nostrils flare, "You banged her head so hard that you fractured her skull."

"It was an accident. I dropped her."

"No," he shakes his head, "You didn't. She wouldn't stop crying, and you hit her head against the counter, didn't you?"

"I..."

"Didn't you?" Nick repeats.

"She wouldn't stop crying."

"Tell me what happened, when you woke up the next morning," Olivia insists.

"I was too tired to put her in her bed when I got home. I just left her in bed with me. When I woke up she wasn't breathing. I panicked."

"You got ready for school, and left the house like nothing happened," Olivia points out.

"I didn't know what to do."

"You dropped her off at Ryan's house, and put her in her crib. You know that his mother wouldn't look at her, so you went to school. You made it to homeroom, and then you cut your next couple of classes. You went back, and you got her. You drove down to the river to get rid of the body. But you found an abandoned car. So you put her inside, thinking that it would look like an accident," Nick fills in the holes.

"I never meant to hurt her, I was just so overwhelmed. I just wanted to be a kid. I didn't want a baby. I told my parents that. I thought that they would let me give her up for adoption. I mean how would it look? The daughter of two respected members of the community winds up knocked up? I told them, and they told me that I had to have her, and keep her. I never wanted her."

Olivia scoots her chair out, and walks out of the room, unable to listen anymore. Nick stays in the room, and allows the suspect to finish.

"Ryan didn't want a baby either. Our parents thought it would be a lesson in responsibility. We just wanted to have a good time, not a baby. They just wanted to make themselves look good. They wanted to look like doting grandparents who cared about her, when we screwed up. It was a sham."

"That doesn't make it ok to kill your baby. You could have left her here, or at a hospital. You could have left her somewhere safe if you couldn't handle it. You didn't have to kill her."

"I didn't mean to," she insists, not shedding a tear.

"I don't believe you. I don't think that you meant to give her alcohol poisoning."

"You think I meant to hurt her?"

"You knew what you were doing, when you hit her head. That injury was sustained hours before you came back from your party. You left the house, after banging her head on the counter. You left your baby in her crib, with a massive head injury. You let her slowly bleed out. She was screaming in pain when you got home."

* * *

When he finishes an officer takes the suspect for booking. Nick leaves the interrogation room to find his partner. She is in the squad room sitting at her desk.

"You ok?"

She shakes her head, "No."

"Why don't you go home? I'll finish the paperwork."

"I don't want to go home."

"You want to go for a drink?"

"That is the last thing that I need."

"So then lets go grab a bite, we haven't eaten since this morning."

"Fine," she agrees.

The sit at a restaurant, waiting on their meals. He looks over at his partner.

"This case really got to you, huh?"

"I have never understood why people chose to raise children that they don't want. There are so many other options."

"I know."

"No one wanted that little girl."

"It's sad," he agrees.

"I don't think that I am ever going to understand. I know that she was overwhelmed, but she had choices."

"There is something else bothering you, isn't there?"

"Yeah," she nods.

"You don't think she did it?"

"I know she did."

"Then what is it?"

"It's not about the case."


	27. Heated Discussions

"What's on your mind?"

"What isn't on my mind?"

"Olivia I am your partner, just talk to me."

"I wouldn't know where to start."

"At the beginning."

"It's not that simple," she insists.

"This case seemed to bother you more than cases with kids usually do. Why is that?"

"I haven't been very honest with you, lately."

"About what?"

"Nick, I'm pregnant."

"What?!"

"I'm pregnant."

"I heard you the first time, I just don't know what you want me to say."

"You don't have to say anything."

"How long have you known?"

"A while."

"How far along are you?"

"Four and a half months."

His eyes widen, "What? Why didn't you tell me."

"I didn't know how to."

"You should have told me."

"I know. I am just not ready for everyone to know, yet."

"I can understand that."

"I am past what is considered the safe zone, but I am still weary about telling anyone. What if something happens?"

"Nothing is going to happen," he promises.

"You can't promise me that. It's high risk, and..."

"You're scared. That's ok."

"You're not going to tell anyone, are you?"

"No," he vows.

"I know I should tell the captain, but I'm not ready for that just yet."

"That's ok."

"I am sorry that I didn't tell you sooner, I just couldn't find the right time."

"So..."

She cuts him off, "I don't know."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry. I wish that I knew."

"Did you tell the other guy?"

"Yeah," she nods.

"How did it go?"

"Not too well."

"Meaning?"

"He's history. He's not going to be in the picture no matter what the outcome is."

"What does this mean?"

She shrugs, "I am having a baby."

"I know that. You know that wasn't what I meant."

"I don't know."

"I..."

She cuts him off, "No matter how this turns out, I want you to know that I, in no way, shape, or form expect anything out of you."

"No matter what?"

"Having a child is something I have always wanted. I am ok with going it alone."

"No one is ok with that."

"Nick, I have no expectations."

"You have no expectations? That is a cop out, if I ever heard one. Instead of dealing with the issue that is right in front of us you just want to pretend that everything is ok? Olivia I get that you're independent, and you are not afraid to become a single parent, but what about that kid? Don't you think that your kid deserves more than that?"

"Nick I don't want to have this conversation with you," she warns.

"Too bad, we're having it."

"This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you."

"Did you actually plan on telling me at all? Be honest. You were planning on having this baby, and never telling me, weren't you."

"How could I do that? It isn't as if I could hide a pregnancy for nine months. I couldn't have a baby, and not have you find out."

"Which is the only reason you're telling me now. If you could, I think that you would try."

"Nick..."

"Be honest, you didn't want me to know, did you?"

"You knowing really complicates things. We are partners."

"You should have thought of that."

"I should have thought of that?" her voice raises.

"We should have thought of the consequences..."

She cuts him off, "But we didn't."

He shakes his head, "I don't want to argue with you. You're my partner and..." he stops.

"And, what?"

"We both crossed a line, and now we have to figure this out."

"What is there to figure out? I don't even know if..."

He cuts her off, "Really? You don't know if I'm the father? What does your gut tell you?"

"What my gut says doesn't matter."

"I want a DNA test."

"Because you're hoping that it's not yours?"

"No, because I think that it is. I think that if you're completely honest with yourself, you already know it's me. That is why you didn't want to tell me."

"What makes you think that?"

"I am your partner. I am the first person you should have told."

"Nick we shouldn't be doing this, here."

He looks around, and realizes they're still in a public place. He nods, understandingly.

"Fine, but we are going to do this."

"Not here, and not now. I think you should cool off, before we talk about this."

"You're probably right."

"Call me, later, when you're ready," she gets up, from the table.

"Fine."

"And we shouldn't talk about this at work."

"I agree. I would like to keep my job."


	28. Let Me Love You

She's lying in bed, supine, staring at the ceiling. It's late, and the room is nearly pitch black. The only light is from the digital numbers on her alarm clock. The covers are folded down, just below her waist. She lies in silence, with her hand on her stomach. The baby dances, as she lies there, with a full mind, and a heavy heart.

* * *

He lies on his side, staring at his alarm clock. He watches, as the minutes tick away. The passing time is like the story of his life. The moments that matter the most always pass him by. The seconds he wishes he could have back always seem to elude him. He is always in the wrong place at the wrong time. Just once, he wishes that things would go the way he planned them, or at least the way he wanted them to.

He stares at the clock, knowing he has to be at work, in the morning. All he can think about is Olivia, and her face. Her words seem to be on loop in his brain. It's been nearly a month since their conversation, and things have been icier than ever between them. He wants to say something, but he can't come up with the right words.

His mind wanders, as he approaches sleep. Eventually his best efforts to stay awake prove futile. Sleep comes. It is pleasant, and dreamy. Just before he wakes he sees the face of an angel. A baby. As his alarm clock brings him back to reality the image of a sweet, newborn baby is burnt into his brain.

* * *

She wanders into the precinct. She steps into the squad room, and not another one of her co-workers has arrived, yet. She drops off her purse, placing it in her locker. She walks past her desk, and heads towards her boss's office. She knocks, and he motions for her to come in. She closes the door behind her, and takes a seat, in front of him.

"Olivia you're here early."

"I wanted to come talk to you."

"Is there something on your mind?"

"There is always something on my mind."

"Is there something specific? You usually don't come to talk to me, unless you have a problem. Is there a problem?"

"I wouldn't classify it as a problem."

"What's going on?"

"There is something that I need to tell you."

"Ok," he nods.

"I should want to tell you, but I don't know how you're going to take this."

"You want to leave?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"Good, just checking.""Captain, I'm pregnant."

His lips curl into a smile, "Olivia, I know."

She furrows her brow, "You do?"

"I have known for a while."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I didn't think that it was my place to ask. Besides that, you are a grown adult, and can make good decisions regarding yourself, and the safety and well-being of your baby. Also, I don't think that your partner would ever let anything happen to you."

"All of that is true."

"How far along are you, now?"

"Six months."

"Why did you wait so long to tell me?"

"I hate desk duty."

"Why did you think that you needed to keep this a secret?"

"I just told you, desk duty."

"We both know that isn't the only reason. Olivia you're six months along."

"I should have told you sooner, I know that."

"Why didn't you?"

"I just kept putting it off, for the right moment. I was sick for a long time, and I just kept finding excuses not to tell you."

"You don't look six months along."

"I was pretty sick for the first four months. I could barely keep anything down. I lost a lot of weight. I still am not up to my pre-pregnancy weight. I am not going to complain, at least now I can keep my food down."

"Well, congratulations."

"Thanks."

"And, Olivia..." he pauses.

"Yes?"

He shakes his head, "I don't think I want to know who put it there."

"It doesn't matter, does it?"

"Is it a conflict of interest?"

"I'll let you know when I find out."

He furrows his brow in confusion.

She shakes her head, "Don't ask."

"Do you know what you're having?"

"No."

"Are you going to find out?"

"If the baby will cooperate I will. I don't think that I can handle anymore surprises in my life right now."

"This wasn't planned?"

"Hardly."

"Then the less I know, the better."

"I agree."

* * *

She's on the elevator, on her way home, that night. Her partner slips on, just before the doors close. They are the only two people on the elevator, not surprisingly, as late as it is. He looks over at her. She looks exhausted, but glowing at the same time. He smiles at the thought of her having his child. She doesn't look at him. She stares at the buttons on the panel of the wall of the elevator.

"Liv," he breaks the silence.

"Yeah?"

"I have given you time, and space."

"I know."

"I am not going to give you anymore."

"Nick," she tries to warn him.

"In my heart I know it's my baby. I want to be there for her. I want to be there for you."

She shakes her head, "Nick things just don't work that way."

"My daughter lives with my ex-wife. My son lives with his mother. I barely get to see either one of them. I couldn't make things work with either of their mothers. I'll be damned if I don't try to make things work with you. I don't want to be a father every other weekend. I want to be there, for every moment. I think about all of the moments I missed in my kids lives, and it kills me. I don't want to make the same mistake this time. I'm not going anywhere."

"Nick, you're my partner," she reminds him.

"Then I won't be, anymore. I'll leave SVU."

"I can't ask you to do that. I would never expect it."

He looks into her eyes, "For once in your life, can't you just let someone love you, without questioning it? You can't push every good person in your life away. At some point you have to let someone in."


	29. I Don't Wanna Know

They're sitting in the squad car, in the rain. They are waiting outside an apartment building, for their suspect to show up. Nick looks over at Olivia.

"You're being awfully quiet, are you ok?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you mad at me, for what I said?"

"No, you were probably right," she grumbles, under her breath.

"Really? I was probably right?"

"Don't gloat," she warns.

"It's been a week, and you've barely spoken to me."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything."

"I'm tired."

"Of what?"

"I am just tired."

"Oh, you mean you're physically tired. I get it."

"Desk duty is starting to sound pretty inviting."

"Olivia I am thinking about putting in for a transfer."

"Because that wouldn't look suspicious at all."

"I am serious. If you don't want to be together, that is your choice. If this baby is mine, I am going to be in it's life. That is not negotiable. I assume that you want to keep this secret, as evidenced by the fact that you like to keep everything in your life a secret."

"She," she corrects.

"I beg your pardon?"

"The baby is not an it."

"I thought that you didn't know."

"I didn't."

"Now you do?"

"It's a girl."

"You're sure?"

"I just found out this morning."

"So we're having a daughter?"

"I am having a daughter."

"And, what? I'm having chopped liver?"

"We don't even know if the baby is yours."

"I have a gut feeling that it is."

"We'll see."

"Can't we do a DNA test, before the baby is born?"

"We can, but I would prefer not to."

"Didn't you already have an amniocentesis?"

"No."

"No? Don't they recommend them for..."

Olivia cuts him off, "Yes, they recommend them for all women over thirty five. I opted not to have one."

"Wouldn't you want to know, if there was something wrong?"

"It wouldn't have mattered. I was having her, regardless."

"But don't you want to be prepared?"

"Be prepared? They are not completely accurate, and it would just cause anxiety."

"So you're just going to hope everything is alright?"

"That is all anyone can do."

"What happens if it's not?"

She furrows her brow, "What do you mean, what happens if it's not? Nothing happens."

* * *

That night, she's one of the last people left in the squad room. She is mentally, and physically exhausted. She looks around the room, and finds that John is the only one left in the room. Don sits in his office finishing up paperwork. John vacates his seat, at his desk, and walks over to her.

"Olivia, go home. We've had a long week. You need to get some rest."

"I'm fine."

"You're lying," he calls her out.

"I will be fine."

"Keep telling yourself that. How is the peanut today?'

"She's fine."

"She?"

"Yeah," Olivia nods.

"Liv I know that it's not any of my business..." he begins.

She cuts him off, "Don't ask."

"I wasn't going to ask you anything."

"Oh."

"I was going to give you advice."

"Because your life is so together?"

"Because it's not," he admits.

"Ok."

"You've spent a lot of years dedicated to this job. I know for me, I let opportunities slip away, because of the job that I wished I hadn't. This job is not going anywhere. It isn't the only defining factor in who you are. If you're ever going to be happy you have to be honest with yourself."

"I know that."

"And you know making her grow up without a father isn't fair."

"I don't..."

He cuts her off, "Every child needs a father, even if it isn't their biological one."

"She is going to have a lot of positive male role models in her life."

"Don't shortchange her, because you're stubborn," he warns.

She doesn't say anything.

"Night Liv," he heads for the door.

After he leaves, she gathers her belongings. She heads to Cragen's office. She knocks on the door. He looks up from his desk, and motions her in. She enters the room, and closes the door.

"What's up?" he questions.

"I am sorry."

"Sorry? Liv what are you talking about?"

"I made a mistake."

"We all make mistakes. What specifically are you talking about?"

"I broke the rules."

"Olivia..."

"I need to tell you the truth."

"I'm listening."

"You aren't going to like it."

"I'll get over it," he tells her.

"I doubt it."

"Whatever it is, we can deal with it."


	30. Telling The Truth

"I am not so sure that you will agree once you know what it is we need to discuss."

"Olivia it's late, it has been a long day, and I am tired. Whatever it is that you need to say, you should just say."

"Ok," she nods, in agreement.

"I am not a hundred percent sure of who the baby's father is."

"I thought that we already established that."

"And I am quite certain that you will be disappointed with both candidates."

"I know them?" he questions.

She nods, guiltily.

"Olivia just tell me who they are."

"I..."

"Why don't you want to tell me?"

"Because I made some incredibly stupid decisions."

"Every one makes bad decisions sometimes."

"This was the most important one I could have ever made, and I feel like I totally blew it."

"Was it your intention to get pregnant?" He queries.

"No. That was never my intention. I don't know what my intention was, but clearly I did not succeed. I don't know what made me think that seeing two different people at the same time would turn out ok."

"Liv just tell me who it is."

"I told you I don't know."

"Tell me who the choices are?"

"One of the candidates is Elliot."

"Oh," is all he can manage to say.

"And I am fairly certain that she isn't his."

"How long have you and Elliot been seeing each other?"

"He isn't in the picture anymore. Being with him wasn't a good idea in the first place. We have always been like fire, and gasoline, and I should have known from past experiences that it would only blow up in my face."

"Did you tell him?"

She breaks eye contact, and hangs her head, "He didn't believe me."

"Why wouldn't he believe you?"

She shrugs, "I think because he didn't want to. He didn't want to consider the possibility of having another child. He panicked. His mind instantly went to being trapped in a relationship out of obligation. I understand it, but he acted like an asshole about the entire situation. I told him that I never wanted to see him again."

"What if the baby is his?"

"He is never going to see her," Olivia vows.

"It was that bad?"

"It was worse," she admits.

"I can deal with that. I don't agree with your choice, but I can deal with it."

"Nothing ever happened, before," she clarifies.

"I know that."

"Obviously nothing happened, for a reason. I knew that it was wrong, but I did it anyway. It doesn't matter that he is my former partner, instead of my current partner. It doesn't matter that he's divorced now. I just couldn't get over the feeling that I was doing something wrong. I couldn't get past the thought that to him I would always be the other woman. No matter how long he is free of Kathy, and away from the department, I would have always been the other woman. I just wasn't ok with that."

He shakes his head, "And you shouldn't be. You should never settle for being anything but someone's everything."

"I am getting a little old to be choosy, don't you think?"

He smiles at her, "No, not at all."

She swallows hard, "And unfortunately that is the least likely candidate."

"Why do you say unfortunately?" he wonders.

"It will be easier if it's him. I never have to see him again. I don't have to deal with him."

"But then your kid doesn't have a father."

"She already has a lot of great men in her life."

"Olivia you're stalling, why?"

"Because the other option is one that you are going to like even less."

"I doubt that. Just tell me who it is."

"I am sorry, for betraying your trust. I am sorry for crossing a line I never should have crossed."

Don furrows his brow, "What are you talking about? Who is it?"

"You aren't going to like my answer."

"Obviously it is someone I know."

"Yes."

"I dislike them?"

"No, but you are going to dislike the position me telling you will put you in."

"Why don't you wait to tell me until the baby is born, and you have a DNA test done? Maybe you don't even have to worry about it."

She exhales, "My gut is telling me that it's not Elliot. I know that if I don't tell you know, I may not ever be able to."

"Oh."

"And that makes things really complicated."

"Simplify it for me."

"I violated department..."

He cuts her off, "It is one of your co-workers?"

She nods her head, in shame.

"Do you want me to guess, or are you going to tell me?"

"I..." she doesn't know how to respond.

"I know that it isn't Munch. Fin is like your brother, so I am sure that it isn't him. That really only leaves one candidate, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Your partner?"

"I'm sorry."

"You slept with Nick?" he grows angrier with each word.

"Yes."

"And now you're pregnant?" the vein in his forehead throbs.

"Yes."

"And the baby that you're carrying is probably his?"

"Yes."

"Does he know?"

"Yes."

"And he didn't tell me, either?"

"No."

"Olivia I have to be honest here. I am more disappointed that you didn't trust me enough to tell me, than I am that you crossed a line, and broke about a dozen department rules."

"I am sorry," she insists, on the verge of tears.

"Me too."

"So what happens now?"


	31. Waiting

"What happens now, is that you walk out of my office, and we both pretend like you never said a word about any of this. I continue to pretend that the father of your child is an anonymous sperm donor. I don't want to hear about this, again. Is that understood?"

"But..."

"Olivia you're getting ready to have a child. I think that it is best for you to keep your job."

"I agree."

"You, and Nick need to work this out. I just don't want to hear about it. I don't want to hear a word about it at work, is that understood?"

"Yes," she nods.

"You work out custody, and so on, and so fourth. I want to know nothing of it. You both need jobs, so I am going to pretend as if you never told me."

"But..." she begins to argue.

"But what? He is your partner. How am I going to look, if I report that you have been sleeping with your partner, and now you're pregnant, and I didn't know? I didn't have any clue? How would that look?"

"I am sorry. It was never my intention to make you look bad."

"It's over now, right?" he questions.

She sighs, and says nothing.

"Olivia? Tell me that it's over. Tell me you aren't seeing him anymore."

"I'm not."

"Then why did you hesitate?"

"He wants..."

"If he wants anything else then I suggest he move to a different department? Is that understood?"

"Yes."

"Good, now go home."

* * *

When she arrives home, he's waiting outside her door. She looks at him, but says nothing. She enters the building, and he follows her in. She makes it to her apartment, before the silence is broken. She pushes the door to her apartment open, and turns, and looks at him.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk, but you weren't home."

"I know."

"You seem like you're in a shitty mood, what gives?"

"I talked to Cragen."

"About what?"

"I told him the truth."

"I bet he's pissed."

"He's more angry that I didn't tell him than he is at what we did."

"Oh. So now what?"

"We can't be together, and stay partners, you know that, right?"

"You don't want to be together, so why are you even bringing it up?"

She shrugs, "I don't know."

"Can I come in?"

She nods, and they both step into the apartment.

"Are you having second thoughts?" he questions as she closes the door.

"About what?"

"About being together?"

"You made some valid points."

"I know that."

"Nick I think that you should go home."

"But we're not done here."

"We are, for now. Ok?"

"Olivia."

"I need time to think. I need time to process all of this. Ok?"

"Fine," he turns to leave.

* * *

When he gets home he grabs a beer out of the fridge. He takes a seat on the couch, and turns on the TV. He flips to the game. He stares at the screen, but his mind is anywhere but there. All he can think about is his partner, and the child that she is carrying. A little girl. A daughter, who probably belongs to him.

He wonders how they could have gotten here? Would they have made different choices if they knew how this would turn out? Would things be different, if they knew that there was going to be a child involved?

* * *

She's almost asleep, when her phone rings. She reaches for it, quickly, figuring that it is probably work calling her back in. She pulls it to her ear, without checking to see who it is.

"Hello?" she answers.

"Liv," a familiar voice on the other end responds.

"Why are you calling me?"

"I have been calling you for weeks, and weeks. I leave messages, and you never respond."

"I have absolutely nothing to say to you."

"Olivia, I am sorry."

"Elliot," she warns, "Sorry isn't going to get it. I explained that to you."

"I know, but..."

"If you know that, then why are you calling me?"

"Because I still love you."

"I don't love you."

"I don't believe that," he argues.

"Elliot please just stay out of my life."

"How am I supposed to stay out of your life, when you could be having my baby?"

"It's not yours," she insists, with certainty.

"You had a DNA test done?"

"Yes," she lies.

"It's really not mine?"

"No."

"You're sure?"

"DNA doesn't lie," Olivia answers.

"I still want to be in your life."

"Elliot I don't want you in my life, I thought that I made that perfectly clear."

"You were angry."

"You are a dick. What does it matter?"

"Liv," he tries to change her mind.

She cuts him off, "Go to hell," she hangs up the phone.


	32. Love Don't Run

He looks over at his partner, from his seat at his desk. She looks exhausted, and frankly unhappy. He rises from his seat, and makes his way to her desk. He stops at the end of her desk.

"Lunch?" he asks, as she types on the computer.

She doesn't respond, she just continues to type.

"Liv?"

She looks up, "Huh?"

"Let's go eat," he insists.

"I'm fine."

"It's almost three o'clock in the afternoon, we got called out at four thirty this morning. You have to be hungry."

"I'm fine," she answers.

"Well I am sure that the baby is hungry."

She stops typing. She looks down at her stomach, as if she's forgotten that it's there. She sighs, and pulls open her desk drawer. She reaches inside, and grabs her purse.

"Fine," she answers him.

She follows him out of the squad room. They head across the street to a nearby restaurant. Once inside they order quickly, and the wait for their food begins. Olivia stares at her silverware, trying to avoid small talk. She's trying to avoid any conversation at all. Her partner knows this, but initiates it anyway.

"Are you ok?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" she answers without making eye contact.

"Maybe because you have barely said two words all day."

"I am just tired, that's all."

"No, I've seen tired. This is more than that. It's like you've completely shutdown.""I don't want to talk about it."

"I do," he argues.

"It's not always about what you want," she snarls.

He tries to make eye contact, but she avoids it, "What is with you today?"

She shrugs, still avoiding his gaze, "I just have a lot on my mind."

"For example."

"I'm moving," she reveals.

"Where to?"

"Just to another unit in my building. I don't really have room for a baby in my apartment. I mean I could stick her in the closet, but I keep my shoes in there."

"That must be difficult for you, I know how much you dislike change."

"I'll get over it. It is a necessity."

"Do you need help moving?" he questions.

"No."

"You can't move all of your stuff by yourself, you know. It isn't safe."

"Who said that I was doing it by myself?"

"Olivia why are you shutting me out?"

Finally she makes eye contact, "I don't want you to change your entire life, and give up your job for me. I am not ok with that.""Is this about the transfer I put in for?"

"You belong at SVU just as much as I do."

"It is the only way."

She shakes her head, "No it's not."

"How do you figure?"

"Because you don't have to give up anything.""Liv..." he begins to argue.

"Nick the baby isn't yours."

"What?!"

"I decided to have the amniocentesis done," she reveals, in a flat tone.

"When?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Why? I thought that you didn't want it done."

"I couldn't live with not knowing, anymore."

"You seemed pretty sure that it was mine."

"Sometimes my gut is wrong, ok? She isn't yours."

"Is this some sort of test?"

She raises an eyebrow, "What are you talking about?"

"A tactic to try and scare me off? You want to see if I am going to run?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"I'm not going to run. I'm not going anywhere."

"Did you hear what I just said?"

"It doesn't matter," he answers, without missing a beat.

"Excuse me?"

"It doesn't matter," he repeats.

"I heard you the first time, I just don't understand," she admits.

"It doesn't matter."

"Stop saying that? Repeating doesn't make it true. How does it not matter?"

"Because I still want her. I always wanted her."

"How can you say that?"

"Because no matter who her father is, she's your baby. And, I have to be honest, I want you. I want to be with you."

"Shh!" she hushes him, trying to remind him that they are in a public place.

"Liv I'll shout it from the rooftop," he adds.

"You are unbelievable."

"You're angry at me, for being honest?" he tries to clarify.

"I am angry because..." she stares at him in frustration.

"I won't run?" he supplies.

She stares at him, in a moment of clarity. Her feelings of apprehension, all of them make sense now. She isn't afraid to be with him. She is afraid of the unknown. She is afraid to be committed to someone who isn't going to run. In the past they have all ran, even the ones who should have stayed.

She shakes her head, "I can't do this. I won't put myself through this."

"Through what? A chance that someone isn't going to leave you? I know that you expect everyone to leave you. People who should have been in your life, even from day one, were absent. I get it. I know people weren't there for you. I know that people walked away, when you needed them the most. I know you're broken. I get it, and I still love you."

"Stop saying that," she begs.

"Why does it scare you so much?"

"It doesn't," she lies.

"You aren't afraid of being abandoned, or left, you expect it. You are afraid that someone might stay, and see how broken that you really are. Heaven forbid that you ever trust someone enough to show them all your broken pieces. If anyone got to see all your broken pieces they might run too? Right?"

She doesn't answer him, she just looks at him, on the verge of tears.

Nick continues, "I've seen enough of them to know, I have seen half of them yet, and it doesn't matter to me. I am not perfect either. I have a lot of flaws. But I am never going to walk away, just because you don't know how to ask me to stay. Why can't you just see that? Why can't you believe that someone can love you for who you are, all the broken pieces, and all?"


	33. Easy

Months have passed, and the exchanges between herself, and her partner have grown especially cold. They spend more time in silence than they do talking. She doesn't want to listen, and he has run out of things to say to convince her that he's right. She is due to give birth to her daughter in two weeks, and he has made no progress in convincing her that he's right. He can't seem to sway her. He takes a step back, and gives her some space. He knows if that he pushes too hard that he will only smother her.

She lies there, in silence. The once busy room has grown quiet. The medical personnel have finally left her alone. She's only been in the hospital a few hours. She arrived after work, around five thirty. It's barely one o'clock. The only light that is on is the one above her bed. She takes a deep breath. She is glad that there is a moment of peace. She is grateful that she is alone. Her contractions started just after three, but she decided to keep quiet.

She reminds herself she is the one who chose this. She is the one who wanted to do it on her own. She looks down, and the baby in her arms. The hour and half old baby sleeps silently in her arms. She looks at her daughter, and all the things she was once sure of seem to be uncertain, now. The little girl looks like an angel. She has been cleaned up, and is no longer covered in goo. She is secured in a receiving blanket. Her pink cap obscures her thick dark hair. She kisses her cheek. The little girl's eyes open wide.

"Hi precious girl," Olivia greets her.

The baby searches for her mother's voice. Olivia reaches for her phone. She dials a familiar number. She promised that she wouldn't do this. She swore that she wouldn't call him. She vowed that she would be stronger than this. He answers after a couple of rings.

"Hello?" he answers sheepishly.

"Hey, it's me."

"Liv?" he answers in surprise, "Why are you calling me so late? Is everything alright?"

"I just wanted to call to let you know that I..." she begins.

"Hold on a second," he tells her.

She waits. She can hear him pull back his covers, and climb out of bed. She listens as his footsteps go into another room. Finally he returns to the phone, "Go ahead," he tells her.

"I wanted to let you know I had the baby."

"Oh," is the only response he gives.

"It's a girl," she reveals.

"I didn't think you wanted to talk to me again."

"I didn't, I don't."

"I am surprised that you called, at all," he admits.

"Contrary to popular belief I am not a total cold hearted bitch."

"Liv, I never said that you were," he points out.

"You said a lot of things," she reminds him.

"And, I'm sorry."

"I just wanted to let you know. You can go back to bed now."

"Does she have a name?"

"Not yet."

"Oh."

"You should probably go. I am sure that your wife has realized your not in bed anymore."

"Liv," he tries to reason with her.

"Elliot I heard you go into the other room. I know that you're with her. You always go back to her. It's ok."

"No, it's not. You..."

She cuts him off before he has the chance to say something that he'll regret, "Don't worry about it."

"But Liv..." he tries to argue.

"She isn't yours."

"You say that, but I don't know whether or not to believe that. Are you telling me that because you think it is what I want to hear, or because it is true? Or are you just telling me that because it is what you want. You don't want me in your life."

"You are the one who ruined every chance we ever had."

"Olivia don't do this."

"Elliot she is not yours," she hangs up the phone.

He stares at the phone for a moment, in frustration. He throws it onto the other end of the couch.

"Who was it?" a voice from behind asks him. He turns and looks at Kathy. He doesn't say anything.

"It sounded like Olivia," she points out.

"Yeah, it was."

"Why was she calling here at one o'clock in the morning?"

"She wanted to give me the good news," he reveals.

"About what?"

"She had a baby, a little girl."

"Is it yours?" Kathy asks bluntly.

"No," he answers, hoping that it is the truth.

"Is that the truth?"

"Kathy I am not going to have this conversation with you. I do not feel like arguing with you. You either trust me, or you don't," his voice grows louder.

"I don't trust you. I have made that very clear."

"Kathy it isn't my baby."

"You are one hundred percent sure?"

"Yes."

"You didn't sleep with her?"

"Enough! I am with you. I am not with her. If she had my baby I would be with her don't you think?"

Kathy shakes her head, "I don't know what to think about you, anymore."

"You are unbelievable," he growls, heading for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"For a breath of fresh air."

"To see her baby?"

"No. I am going to go sit out on the porch before one of us says something that we can't take back."

"We have done enough of that. I just want the truth. Did you sleep with her? Could that be your baby?"

* * *

She stares at her precious, brand new baby girl, and she knows what she has to do. She kisses her forehead. Her heart aches, and her head screams at her. She feels as if she's just been run over by a truck, and the last thing she wants to do is talk to anyone else. The last thing that she wants to do is talk at all. She stares at the innocent baby, and she knows what she had to do.


	34. Betrayal

He looks at his partner's empty desk. This is the second day that she's been absent. The first he just assumed she needed a day off to get ready for the baby, but now he is starting to take it personally. He pushes his chair away from his desk. He heads to the captain's office. He stops in the doorway. The door stands open, he looks at Cragen, sitting, in silence. Nick clears his throat. Don looks up at him.

"Come in," Don motions for him.

"I don't need to stay."

"What do you need, Nick?"

"Where is my partner?" He leave the, _and my baby_, part unsaid.

"She took a few personal days. She said she had a lot to do before the baby gets here."

"Oh."

Cragen instantly picks up on the change in Nick's tone of voice. "Nick if you have something you need to take care of, go ahead. It's been a slow morning. Amanda can handle the case for now. I'll call you if anything breaks."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he nods.

* * *

A few minutes later Nick finds himself at Olivia's new apartment. He knocks on the door, but she doesn't answer. He reaches for the doorknob assuming it's locked. Much to his surprise it isn't. He twists the knob, and pushes the door open. He steps into the apartment. He furrows his brow, at the sight of boxes. He's been to the new apartment before. She was unpacked then. He eyes the marking on the box. It reads Kitchen. He calls out for her.

"Olivia?"

In the other room the sound of his voice makes her panic. She continues what she's doing. She carries the laundry basket into the living room. It is full of laundry. She doesn't set it down. She holds it in front of her.

"Nick, what are you doing here?"

"I just came to check on you."

"You could have called."

"I did. I have been calling you since yesterday, and you didn't answer."

"I have been busy."

"Are you going somewhere?"

"What makes you think that?"

"The boxes."

"I just moved in."

"Weeks ago. You were already unpacked."

"I missed a couple."

"You didn't miss anything. You are meticulous. What is going on here?"

"Nick you really shouldn't be here."

"Obviously you don't want me here, but I'm not leaving until you tell me what's going on.""Please don't do this," she begs.

"Do what? I am not doing anything. I just came over here to check on you."

"I am fine. I am just getting ready for the baby."

"Why are you packing? Are you going somewhere?"

"Yes," she admits, against her will.

"Where?"

"I was offered a job with the FBI."

"Why does that require you to move?"

"At the D.C. office," she reveals.

"And you accepted?"

"Yes."

"Why? You don't know anyone in D.C."

"I need a change."

"Now is not the time. You are about to have a baby. You can't just pack up and move to another city, where you don't know anyone. You are going to have a baby in two weeks. How is that going to work? Who is going to watch her? Why are you doing this?"

"Nick I have to do this, for me," is all of the explanation that she'll offer.

"Does Cragen know?"

"I haven't told him yet."

"When are you going to tell him? Maybe you weren't planning on telling him."

"I have to tell him."

"But you weren't going to tell me, were you?"

"Nick please don't make this any harder than it already is."

"Why wouldn't you tell me?"

"Things between us have been complicated. I didn't want to complicate them any farther. I just wanted to walk away, with a clean slate."

"And a baby," he adds.

"What?" she furrows her brow.

"She's inside of you, it's not as if you can leave her here. It isn't as if you would."

"Nick," she tries to reason with him.

"Obviously my opinion, and my feelings mean nothing to you. I didn't realize that you were that cold."

"I am not going to have this conversation with you," she insists.

"You aren't going to have this conversation with me? You are pregnant with my child."

"No," she shakes her head, "I'm not."

"I don't care what you say, I know it's not the truth. I know she is mine."

"Nick I am telling you the truth."

"I want to be a part of her life. I want to be a part of your life."

"You should go," Olivia warns.

He shakes his head, and his nostrils flare, in anger. He looks at Olivia's facial expression, and her body language. He looks around the apartment. It suddenly hits him that she is hiding something.

"You never showed me the baby's room," he changes the subject, slightly.

"It's all packed up now. There is nothing to see."

"I can help you pack," he offers.

"You have to get back to work."

"Why are you still holding that laundry basket? It's full why don't you put it down?"

She doesn't say anything."

"Olivia?" he questions.

Before she can answer the sound coming from the other room grabs his attention. Without a single word he pushes past her. He goes down the hallway towards the muffled sound. He reaches the end of the hallway, to the door that is ever so slightly ajar. He pushes the door open, and steps into the room. She grabs his arm before he can take another step.

"Nick, there is nothing to see in here."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" he raises his voice, "There is nothing to see? I can hear her right now."

She lets go of his arm. He races towards the crib. He lifts the crying baby girl out of the crib. He holds her close. She stops crying. He just stares at her. He turns, and looks at Olivia, in anger. The look on his face tells her that is blood is ready to boil.

"You weren't going to tell me, were you? Did you have her early on purpose?"

"Why would I do that?"

"So I wouldn't know you had her. I wouldn't know where you were to ever find out the truth."

"Nick that..."

He cuts her off, "You need to leave the room, right now," he warns her.

"Nick," she tries to argue

"Give me a moment alone with her, please."

Her nostrils flare as she turns to leave the room. She closes the door behind her. The tears begin to fall, as she walks down the hallway.


	35. Light

She stands in the doorway, waiting for him to put the baby down. He doesn't, so she enters the room. She stops next to him, in front of the crib.

"If you want to leave that is up to you," he tells her, "but you aren't taking my daughter anywhere."

"She's not yours," Olivia insists.

"Cut the crap. Take one look at her. That is my daughter. Why is it that you always want to run?"

She doesn't answer him.

"Why don't I take her, and you can have the whole day to decide what you think is really best for everyone involved."

"You can't take her," Olivia argues.

"I'm her father."

"I'm breast feeding."

"I respect that, but you are not going to keep me out of her life."

"Nick I am taking her to D.C. with me."

"Have you already accepted the job?"

She looks away, and doesn't answer him.

"Olivia why do you have to make everything so difficult?"

She shrugs, "I don't know."

"I can't believe you left me out of this. You didn't even call me when you went to the hospital?"

"I wanted to."

"Then why didn't you?"

"Because I didn't want this."

"You didn't want what?"

"To have this confrontation with you. I just wanted to have her to myself for a little while. Is that too much to ask?"

"No, but you didn't even tell me that you had her. What was your plan? Were you going to take her to D.C., and not tell me? Were you planning on leaving without any forwarding address?"

"I don't want things to be this complicated."

He shakes his head, "You are the one making things complicated."

"I have this perfect little girl, and I don't even know her name."

"Lucia Camille."

He looks down at the baby in his arms, "Hi Lucia."

"I am going to call her Lucy."

"Why? Why would you call her Lucy? If you wanted to call her Lucy you should have just named her Lucy."

"You don't like Lucy?"

"Lucia suits her," he points out.

Olivia studies the dark haired little girl.

"You are right," she admits.

"That does happen occasionally."

"Look, Nick I don't know how to make this work."

"If you want to go, that's fine, but you aren't taking my daughter."

"I wish that we could make this work, but..."

He cuts her off, "Before you insert an excuse at the end of the sentence tell me why we can't. I want a real reason, not an excuse."

"Because we both need our jobs."

"That is an excuse."

"I am asking you, why you don't want to try to make this work."

She furrows her brow, "Nick I am tired, and I really don't want to have this conversation right now."

"You are going to be tired for the next eighteen years, so we might as well have it now."

She yawns, "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I keep trying to come up with a reason that we can't, or shouldn't try to make things work, but I can't. I can't come up with a good reason not to try."

"Then why are you trying to run away?"

"I have waited for her my entire life. She is the one thing that I have always wanted. I guess, selfishly, I just didn't want to share her with you, or with anyone."

"I understand that. I will give you all of the time that you need with her. I am not trying to interrupt you bonding with her. I just want you to know that I am going to be part of her life too. I am her father. If I have to run the DNA myself to prove it, then I will."

"That isn't necessary."

"Are you sure?"

"You should do the test just to be certain."

"That isn't what I asked."

"Based on the time of conception, you are the only candidate."

"Ok."

"Nick this is going to be really messy, you know that, right?"

"My entire life has been messy."

"You have..."

"We both have a lot of baggage. We will have to figure things out."

"She is not your only child," she points out.

"And?"

"How are you going to explain to them why you are with her mother, and not theirs?"

"I know."

"I just don't know if I am ready for this."

"Olivia I think that you have been ready for this for a long time."

"Maybe."

"I think you're just afraid that now that you have it, someone will try to take it away from you."

"Things happen that are beyond our control."

"No one is going to take her from you."

"You want to."

"I don't. I just want to be in her life. I am her father."

"I understand that."

"Why is it so hard for you just to be happy?"

"I have been trying to be my whole life."

"Stop trying," he tells her, slipping the baby into her arms.

She stares at the newborn in amazement.

"How can you look at her, and not be happy?" he questions.


	36. Wrong

Her words echo in his mind, as he sits on her couch, staring at their daughter. He blinks, wondering if he can convince himself that all of this is real. He wonders how he missed it.

* * *

_"Nick if you're looking for a fairy tale it isn't this."_

_"Olivia," he tries to reason with her._

_"I don't believe in fairy tale endings. I only believe in... reality. Life is hard, and this is no different."_

_"You act as if, even though, I know that you have always wanted this, that this isn't how you thought it would be."_

_"Does anything ever turn out the way we plan it?"_

_"That isn't the point."_

_"Look I don't want to argue with you. I think I am going to step outside for a minute, I need some fresh air."_

_"Ok," he agrees._

* * *

It only takes fifteen minutes for him to start getting worried. After seventeen he tries her cell phone, only to find that it is going straight to voice mail. Within twenty minutes the cop part of his brain starts going through all of the things that could have happened to her. Against his better judgment he bundles up the baby, and goes outside. He walks across the street to the bodega on the corner. He flashes his badge, at the counter.

"Did you see anyone from across the street come out of the building in the last twenty, to twenty five minutes."

"Your baby mama?" the female cashier asks, "I don't know," she shrugs.

The guy behind the counter moves towards him, "I was out on break then," he admits.

"Did you see her?"

"She pulled out of the garage like a bat out of hell."

"Are you sure you know who I'm talking about?"

"Yeah, she drives a sixty five mustang. I know who I'm talking about. I've only seen her out on a couple of occasions in that thing."

"Did you happen to see which direction she was headed?"

"Out of dodge," he admits.

"What do you mean by that?" Nick questions.

"I think she was headed out of the city."

"Oh."

"She didn't mention it to you?"

"No," Nick shakes his head.

"I think that having a baby was a little more overwhelming than she expected. This morning she came in to buy diaper wipes. She looked like she was about ready to cry."

"She brought the baby out?"

"Yeah, she had her all bundled up."

"Ok, thanks, you've been a lot of help."

After a few calls Nick determines that Olivia has left the city.

* * *

He has just put the baby back into her crib, for a nap, when someone starts knocking on the door. He doesn't check the peephole, he just pulls it open. The captain looks at him, in confusion.

"Nick what's going on, here?"

"Everything is wrong," Nick admits.

"What do you mean? Where is Olivia?"

"She left."

"What do you mean she left?"

"Captain she had the baby, and didn't tell me."

"She took the baby? Wait how do you know?"

"I came over here, and I saw her. She had the baby."

"Where is the baby now?"

"She's in her crib."

"Olivia left? Nick you must have had a miscommunication. I am sure that Olivia wouldn't leave. She would never leave her baby. She probably just went to get diapers. What did she say to you?"

"She told me that she was going to step outside for fresh air. That was an hour ago. I talked to the cashier from across the street. He saw her leave in her car."

"Maybe she went to get something to eat."

"I called in some favors. She was spotted going across the bridge."

"Headed where?"

"Out of town. She's headed west."

"Nick are you sure?"

"Do you think I would have called if I wasn't?"

"What did she say before she left?"

"That she didn't believe in fairytales. I don't know how long she is planning on being gone. I don't even know if she is coming back."

"Maybe she is just overwhelmed. I am sure she just needs a couple of hours, and she'll be back."

"Captain the fridge is full of milk. I don't think she is coming back in a few hours."

"When did she have the baby?"

"Two days ago."

"It isn't like Olivia to just leave. There has to be something that we're missing. Did she get any calls before she left?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"I was with the baby."

"Ok. I'll call the phone company."

"Captain maybe there is nothing afoul here. Maybe she just left. Maybe she has post-pardom depression, or something."

Don shakes his head, "It is too early for that to set in.""So, what is your theory?"

He shrugs, "I don't know, but I am going to find out where she is, and bring her back."

"Maybe she doesn't want to be here. Maybe she doesn't want to be a mother."

"Nick it is the only thing that she has ever wanted."

"What do we do?"

"We find her."

"What if she has just decided that she can't handle this?"

"We talk to her. We get her help. Running isn't an option. She has wanted this for so long. I'll stay here with the baby, why don't you go talk to the cashier across the street again? Maybe he saw someone with her."

"He didn't mention it before."

"Nick please."

"Ok," he agrees.


End file.
